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ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE ; 



WHAT MAY BE SEEN IN THAT TIME 



BY 



JAMES FREEMAN CLARKE. 



Dixerit hie aliquisj Quis ista nescit ; adfer aliquid novi. 

Erasmus 



BOSTON: 
T1CKNOR, REED, AND FIELDS 

MDCCCLII. 



Entered according to the Act of Congress, in the year ]852, by 

TICKNOR, REED, AND FIELDS, 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 






PRINTED BT THURSTON, TORR1', AND EMSFJKON. 



e9£ 



TO THE MEMBERS OF 

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IN BOSTON, 

TO WHOSE KINDNESS I AM INDEBTED FOR THE JOURNEY DESCRIBED 

IN THESE PAGES, THESE TRAVELLING SKETCHES 

ARE AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED. 



PREFACE. 

I have had serious doubts about publishing this book, — 
first, because the objects seen and described have been seen 
and described fifty times before by other travellers ; — 
secondly, because the opinions ventured in it on art and 
other matters, are often only first impressions, and may turn 
out superficial and misleading. For these reasons, after I 
had prepared the MSS. from my journals and letters, for 
publication, I laid it aside. But on the other hand the case 
stands thus. Every new pair of eyes sees something new, 
even on an old road. I myself like to read new books of 
travels, though I have read ever so many before. Each 
traveller sees the old thing in his own new way ; always 
provided that he does not copy his remarks from Murray's 
Hand-Books, — a trick I have studied to avoid. Again, 
every man has friends and acquaintances who are glad to 
know how those world-renowned objects — Paintings, Cathe- 
drals, Alps — affected his mind ; and why not gratify them and 
himself? And as to the opinions being superficial, hasty, and 
perchance crude ; we may bethink ourselves that all know- 
ledge has to take this form first, and that such venturesome 
opinions are, as Milton says, ' Knowledge in the making.' 
Therefore I take my MSS. down and print it, hoping that 



Vlll PREFACE. 

this apology may appease the critics, with their — ' adfer 
aliquid novi.' 

But besides, and more especially, I wish to tell those who 
may still be ignorant of it, how much may be seen now in 
Europe, in a comparatively short time, and at small expense. 
I spent eleven weeks in Europe, as follows : — 

Four weeks in England. 

Two weeks in France. 

Three weeks in Switzerland. 

One week on the Rhine. 

One week in Belgium. 
In England, I saw Chester and its antiquities, Eaton Hall, 
North Wales, with the Menai and Britannia Tubular Bridges, 
Caernavon Castle, Conway Castle, Snowdon. and the fine 
scenery about Llanberris, Capelcarig, and Llanrst. I saw 
Windermere, Rydal Water, Grasmere, Elter Water, and the 
scenery around Ambleside and Grasmere, in Cumberland. I 
visited Warwick Castle, Kenilworth Castle, Windsor Castle. 
I saw the Cathedrals of Westminster Abbey and St. Paul's, 
Salisbury, Canterbury, Chester, and York. I visited Oxford 
and saw its Colleges. I saw the pictures in the National 
Gallery, Dulwich College, Hampton Court Gallery, the 
British Institution, and in many of the private galleries and 
collections in London and its vicinity. I saw the principal 
sights of London, — as the Tower, the Parks, British 
Museum, the Thames, &c. &c. I saw Stonehenge, Old 
Sarum, and the Shakspeare Cliff at Dover, beside other 
less important objects of interest. 

In France, the objects seen were Havre and Rouen, with 
the curious and venerable churches and buildings in the latter 



PREFACE. IX 

place, and the many curiosities of Paris and its vicinity. 
Among these may be mentioned Notre Dame, and the 
churches of the Madeleine, St. Roch, St. Germain de Pres, 
St. Etienne, St. Sulpice, &c. ; Pere la Chaise, the Pantheon, 
Palace and Museums of the Louvre, Palace and Gardens of 
the Tuilleries, Palaces of Versailles and St. Cloud ; Water- 
works and Gardens of Versailles, the Jardin des Plantes, 
Pantheon, Gobelins, Arc de L'Etoile, Bois de Bologne, 
Champs Elysees, Palais Royale, &c. &c. 

In Switzerland, I walked more than two hundred miles on 
foot among the finest Alpine scenery in the Bernese Oberland 
and around Mont Blanc, during which time I ascended the 
Rhigi, the Furca, the Maienwand, the Grimsel, the Reichen- 
bach, the Scheideck, the Wengern Alp, the Gemmi, the 
Col de Balme, the Montanvert, and the Flegere. Saw the 
Falls of the Rhine at Schaffhausen, Falls of the Aar at 
Handeck, Falls of Reichenbach ; lakes Zurich, Zug, Lu- 
cerne, Brienz, Thun, and Leman ; towns of Zurich, Zug, 
Lucerne, Sallenches, Interlachen, Geneva, Freiburg, Berne, 
Soleure, and Basel. 

On the Rhine and its vicinity, I saw Freiburg in Baden, 
Heidelburg and its castle, Frankfort-on-the-Maine, and the 
fine scenery between Mayence and Cologne, with the cities of 
Cologne and Bonn. 

In Belgium, I saw the towns of Brussels, Mechlin, 
Antwerp, Ghent and Bruges, with the fine paintings of 
Rubens and Vandyke, the splendid churches and buildings, 
the carved pulpits, and the Mediaeval antiquities. 

On the continent I saw and examined, beside the churches 
in France, the following churches and cathedrals: — Stras- 



X PREFACE. 

burg, Freiburg in Baden, Zurich, Geneva, Berne, Basel, 
Frankfort, Bonn, Cologne, Coblentz, Brussels, Aix-la- 
Chapelle, Mechlin, Antwerp, Ghent and Bruges. 

The expenses of this trip (including state rooms in packet 
to Europe and in steamship to America) were six hundred 
dollars only. This includes every thing for four months, 
from the day I left Boston till I landed there again. 

There is nothing to excite the imagination in this state- 
ment, but it may be useful, and lead others to have the great 
improvement and enjoyment of a European tour, who perhaps 
now think it demands more of time or of means than they can 
spare. 



TABLE OF CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER I. 

THE OCEAN. 

Embark at Boston. The Ship ' Plymouth Rock.' Life at 
Sea. Calisthenics. Whales and Icebergs. Conversa- 
tion by Telegraph. A Topsail Breeze. Water in its 
Effect on the Intellect. It makes every thing Definite. 
The Captain baited. l Plymouth Rock Pilgrim Associ- 
ation.' Present position of the Peace Question. Coast of 
Ireland. Arrival at Liverpool . . . . 1-28 

CHAPTER II. 

ENGLAND. 

Liverpool. An English Inn. Visit to Chester. Cathedral. 
Curious Streets. Town Walls. English courtesy. Ea- 
ton Hall and Park. St. John's Church, Chester. Trip 
to North Wales. Menai Bridge, and Britannia Tubular 
Bridge. Caernavon Castle. Llanberris and Capelcarig. 
Conway and Conway Castle. Excursion to the Lakes of 
Cumberland. Windermere, Ambleside, Rydal. Knab- 
scar. Morning walk to Grasmere. Cars to Liverpool. 
To Coventry. Warwick Castle and Kenilworth Castle. 
Mrs. Chapman's, London 29-56 



Xll CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER III. 



Methods of Sight-seeing. Things to be seen in London. 
Picture Galleries of London. The roar of the Streets. 
Westminster Abbey on Sunday. Its Monuments. Na- 
tional Gallery. The great historical Paintings and their 
value. Hampton Court. National Gallery again. Bridge- 
water Gallery. Its Gems. The Three Bridgewater 
Rafaelles. Mr. Samuel Rogers and his Collections. 
Pictures in the British Institution. Pearly gray air of 
England. Dulwich Museum. Its Guidos and Murillos. 
' Jacob's Dream ' by Rembrandt. Results of these stu- 
dies. The variety in unity of great Pictures. Rail to 
Salisbury. Salisbury Cathedral. Its Beauty. Ride to 
Stonehenge. 57-91 

CHAPTER IV. 

PARIS. 

Havre. Politeness of the Passport Officer. Rouen by Rail. 
First difficulties. Rouen Cathedral and old Buildings. 
Commissionaires. Iron Spire of the Cathedral. Remi- 
niscences of Joan of Arc. Paris. Meurice's. Beauty 
of Paris. Garden of the Tuilleries. Walks in Paris 
and entertainments. Expiatory Chapel. Palais Lux- 
embourg. Modern French Pictures. Palais Royale. 
Champs Elysees. Bals-Mabilles and Public Concerts. 92-110 

CHAPTER V. 

FARIS AND THE PEACE CONVENTION. 

Meeting of the Convention and its Organization. Previous 
Arrangements. Victor Hugo, Abbe Deguerry and Atha- 
nase Coquerel. Mr. Cobden. Emile de Girardin. Gar- 
den of Plants. Pantheon. Views of Paris. Notre 
Dame. Visit to Versailles. Collation in the Tennis 



CONTENTS. Xtil 

Court. Grand "Water Works of Versailles. Illuminated 
Cascades of St. Cloud. Route to Strasburg. Centennial 
Celebration of Goethe's Birth-day. Goethe's Life and 
Writings. The Diligence. Strasburg Minster. 111-135 

CHAPTER VI. 

THE BLACK FOREST AND SWITZERLAND. 

Rail to Freyburg. The Freyburg Minster. The Schloss- 
berge. Voiture to SchafFhausen. The Black Forest. 
Falls of the Rhine. Canton Zurich. First sight of the 
Alps. Zurich. Hotel Baur. Sunday Morning. Zwin- 
gle's Church. Walk to the Uetliberg. Zug. Ascent of 
Rhigi. Thunder Storm on the Summit. Clear Sunrise. 
Descent to Kussnacht. Sail on the Lake to Lucerne. 
The Bay of Uri. Walk by Night up the Valley of 
the Reuss. Sublime Scenery along the St. Gothard 
Route 136-160 

CHAPTER VII. 

SWITZERLAND. BERNESE OBERLAND. 

The Furca Pass. Glacier of the Rhone. Climb the Mey- 
enwand. The Grimsel. Falls at Handeck. Baths of 
Reichenbach. English, French, and German Travel- 
lers. Americans. Over the Scheideck to Grindelwald. 
Wellhorn and Wetterhorn. Summer Avalanches. Echo 
Boy. Valley of Grindelwald. Wengern Alp. The 
Jungfrau. The Valley of Lauterbrunnen. Its exquisite 
Beauty. The Trees. Goitre. . . • 161-179 

CHAPTER VIII. 

SWITZERLAND MONT BLANC. 

The Day of Rest. Lutheran Church at Unterseen. Large 
Trees. Walk up the Valley of the Kander to Kander- 
steg. Mount Niessen. French Traveller. Mental Soli- 
tude of the Mountains. Pass of the Gemmi. View 



XIV CONTENTS. 

from the top. Extraordinary descent to Leukerbad. 
Our departure from Leukerbad. Sion and its Ruins. 
Martigny. Cross the Col de Balme to Chamounix. 
Mont Blanc. Ascend to the Mer de Glace. The Fle- 
gere 180-204 

CHAPTER IX. 

CHAMOUNIX TO FRANKFORT. 

Road to Geneva. Savoy. Geneva. View of the Moun- 
tains and Lake from the Hotel de Bergues. Calvin's 
Church. Lake Leman. Castle of Chillon. Vevay. 
Rousseau. Freiburg in Switzerland. Its Picturesque 
Situation. Suspension Bridges. Berne. View from the 
Platform and from the Enge. Road to Soleure. Basle. 
Cathedral. De Wette. Freiburg in Baden, again. Hei- 
delberg. The Castle, ' the finest thing in Europe.' 
Frankfort-on-the-Maine. Dannecker's Ariadne. Cathe- 
dral. House of Goethe. Steudel Museum. . 205-232 

CHAPTER X. 

THE RHINE AND BELGIUM. 

The Rhine. Bingen. Chapel of St. Roque. Vineyards. 
Castle of Rheinstein. Byron. Coblentz and Ehrenbreit- 
stein Bridge of Boats. Bonn and its Beauties. Dra- 
chenfels. Tomb of Niebuhr. Cologne. The Great 
Cathedral. Shrine of the Three Kings. The old Church- 
es of Cologne. Aix-la-Chapelle. Charlemagne. Gam- 
ing House. To Brussels by Rail. Its Buildings. 
Mechlin. Importunity of Guides. Carved Pulpits. 
Carved Confessionals. Pictures by Rubens. . 233-259 

CHAPTER XI. 

BELGIUM CONTINUED. 

Antwerp. The Beautiful Cathedral. The Assumption of 
the Virgin. View from the Spire. The Museum. 



CONTENTS. XV 

Paintings by Eubens. The Crucifixion. Adoration of 
the Magi. Sunday in Antwerp. The Catholic Church- 
es. Their Worship. Vandyke. His nobleness of Na- 
ture. The Flemish Sermon by Candlelight in the 
Cathedral. Chimes. Genius of Rubens. Ghent. Its 
Historic Associations. Church of St. Bavon. Pictures. 
Belfry. Beggars and Commissionaires. Iron in Archi- 
tecture. Bruges. Churches. Hemling's Pictures. Bel- 
fry of Bruges. Carved Work. To Ostend. Steamer to 
Dover 260-291 

CHAPTER XII. 

ENGLAND AGAIN. 

Dover. Shakspeare's Cliff. Canterbury Cathedral. Rail 
to London. British Museum. Studies in Psychology. 
Mr. 's Seat at Heme Hill. Modern English Pain- 
ters. Etty. Turner. Mr. Sheepshank's Gallery. Mr. 
Turner's Private Gallery. Value of Turner's Pictures. 
Windsor. St. Qeorge's Chapel, &c. Oxford. Appear- 
ance of the Colleges. Bodleian Library. York. The 
Minster. Leeds. Mr.Wicksted's Chapel. Monumental 
Window. Rail to Liverpool. Mr. Martineau. Europa 
to Boston 292-328 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 



CHAPTER I. 

THE OCEAN. 

On the 6th of July, 1849, I set sail for Liverpool, in 
the ship ' Plymouth Rock,' Captain Caldwell, master. 
She was a fine vessel, nearly new, and one of the 
largest merchant vessels sailing out of Boston. Her 
accommodations were good, the cabin large, and, being 
above the main-deck, well ventilated. The state-rooms 
were on each side of it, in number twelve, each con- 
taining two berths, and a small round window opening 
through the ship's side. We had twelve passengers 
in the cabin and eighty in the steerage. Most of the 
cabin passengers were going as delegates to the Peace 
Convention in Paris. The passengers in the steerage 
were mostly returning emigrants, going back to Eng- 
land or Ireland, to see their friends once more, or 
perhaps to die at home. 

On the wharf stood, many persons who had collected 
to witness our departure, some to see so fine a vessel 
under sail, and some to bid farewell to their friends. 
As the great vessel was being slowly drawn out of 
dock, an animated conversation was kept up, between 
1 



2 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

the Irish on board, hanging over the bulwarks, and 
their friends on the wharf. A violent quarrel was 
going on, between an Irish woman on shore and one 
on board. The first, it seems, had paid the passage 
money for the other, but had afterward changed her 
mind, and now wished, instead, to pay for bringing 
her own husband over. The woman on board refused 
to go on shore, the other argued, gesticulated, implor- 
ed, and threatened ; but all in vain. 

At last, when the ship was nearly out of the dock, 
the captain, standing on the quarter-deck, called out, 
' All who are going ashore, go now.' This sounded 
as if we were really off; a plank was put out forward, 
and the friends shake hands with each other and say, 
1 A good voyage, God bless you.' 

The vessel began to move slowly down the harbor. 
I still saw the faces of my friends on the shore, and 
we waved our hats to each other. The people on the 
wharf gave the ship three cheers, which we returned. 
The ship gathered way under her crowd of sail and 
the strong w r est wind, and soon we reached Castle 
Island. Boston, with its dome and multitude of spires, 
was sinking behind. I went below to write a last note, 
to send back by the pilot, who would leave us after we 
had passed the outer light. Suddenly there was a 
tumult forward. Two steerage passengers, it seemed, 
when called upon for their fare, said they had no 
money, and were told to get into the boat to go ashore 
with the pilot. When looked for presently, they had 
disappeared ; after searching the whole vessel, one was 
found hid in the ventilator, a large sheet-iron cylinder, 
which goes from the hold to the upper deck. The 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 3 

sailors put a rope around his waist and pulled him out. 
The captain seized a rope's end, and administered a 
few blows with it upon his back, but as his jacket was 
on, he did not seem to mind it much, and I thought the 
captain did not mean so much to hurt him, as to terrify 
the rest. But some of the friends of peace on board, 
were much scandalized, and it was some time before 
they could make it up with the captain. The last we 
saw of the man, he was making himself comfortable in 
the pilot boat, and on his way back to Boston. 

All the afternoon of this lovely summer day we ran 
before the south-west wind with royals set, that is to 
say, with four square sails on each mast, beside our 
jibs, stay-sails and spanker. We saw the South shore, 
as far as Captain's Hill, in Duxbury ; the Scituate meet- 
ing-house being long visible. On the north side, we 
saw Nahant, and beyond it the distant shore of Cape 
Anne. Hundreds of brigs, sloops, and schooners, 
covered the sea in all directions, but long before sunset 
we were out of sight of land, and old ocean's melan- 
choly waste was spread around. 

1 And am I actually on my way to Europe ? Am I 
to change into a part of my real life, that which has so 
long been floating before me, a part of my ideal life?' 
Such was the thought constantly in my mind, as I sup- 
pose it is the thought in the minds of most persons of 
any imagination, when crossing the Atlantic for the 
first time. The more that an event has been the 
subject of our dreams, the more incredible does it 
seem that it should enter into our waking existence. 
Hence the mental phenomenon, which most persons 
must have experienced, a feeling that something will 



4 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

certainly occur to prevent the realization of such a 
dream. I suppose the cause of this feeling is the differ- 
ence between the ideal and actual, which makes the 
transition from one to the other seem an impossibility. 

The moon rose just past the full, and the night 
became very beautiful. But the vessel rolled a little 
with the cross sea, and those of the passengers who 
intended to be sea-sick began to go below. About 
midnight the wind hauled dead aft, and our studding- 
sails were set, below and aloft. I went upon deck to 
look at the beautiful scene, and found the first mate, 
the captain's son, standing near the wheel. Said I, 
' Are you not afraid of an accident sailing on Friday, 
and with so many ministers on board ? ' He quietly 
replied, ' If we meet with an accident, I shall not think 
it owing to our sailing on Friday, or to our having 
ministers on board.' 

Following the advice of my brother, who had taken 
many long voyages, and to whom I had complained 
that I should lose my morning bath while at sea, I 
went on deck at day-break, when the sailors were 
washing the decks, dressed in my bathing clothes, and 
asked the men to throw some buckets of salt water 
over me. This they did very cheerfully, making fun of 
it, as sailors do of every thing. But I found it to be 
an excellent bath, and veiy refreshing, and kept it up 
during the whole voyage. 

Only two or three of our passengers were at the 
breakfast-table on Saturday morning, for sickness pre- 
vailed quite extensively. The dinner-table and seats 
were fastened to the floor ; the dinner-table looked like 
a bagatelle-board, having a mahogany rim round it, 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. O 

and two upright strips of mahogany running length- 
wise from end to end. The object of these strips is to 
keep the plates and dishes apart, when the ship takes 
a lurch, so that, in fact, they perform the office which 
Mr. Emerson ascribes to Space and Time. ' There- 
fore is Space, and therefore is Time,' says he, l that 
people may know that things are not huddled and 
lumped, but sundered and divisible.' 

The first few days of the voyage we had fair weather, 
and fair winds, and made very good progress. On the 
first day we ran over two hundred miles. On one day 
we carried twenty-one sails all day. 

Our mode of life at sea soon began to arrange itself 
after a method, and became quite uniform. We would 
commonly walk the deck before breakfast, having a 
fine promenade on the upper-deck, which was eighty 
feet long. We had prayers regularly in the cabin, 
after breakfast and after tea, by the captain's invita- 
tion. The forenoon we spent in writing our journals, 
learning French and German travel talk, studying out 
with maps and hand-books our route in England, and 
on the Continent, taking Calisthenic exercises on the 
deck, and in chit-chat ; and the time went rapidly 
away. I usually went into the mizzen-top in pleasant 
weather, and staid there till I had studied one or two 
lessons in Ollendorff's French Teacher. The mizzen- 
top was three or four feet square, and the view from 
it, over the ocean, very fine. There is the same ad- 
vantage in goiftg to the mast-head at sea, that there is 
in going to the top of a hill on land. From the deck 
of a ship you see but a little way over the ocean, but 
go to the mast-head, or to the main top-mast head, and 



6 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

your horizon is enlarged, and you look over a vast 
field of water. 

Our dinner hour was two. Remembering how much 
we insist on having our fish and vegetables fresh, 
when at home, we cannot but look with some suspi- 
cion on cod and halibut, lettuce and peas, which may 
have been on board a fortnight or three weeks ; but 
they are kept on ice. In the afternoon we repeated 
the occupations of the forenoon, diversified, perhaps, 
by a nap. In the evening, having formed an associa- 
tion called c The Plymouth Rock Pilgrim Association,' 
we discussed peace questions during two hours from 
eight till ten. The day at sea is divided into six 
watches of four hours each. Half of the sailors are 
on deck during each watch, so that each sailor is on 
deck half the time. The rest of his time he has to 
himself, though liable to be called at any other time 
when extra work is to be done. The sea day begins 
at noon, or eight bells, as it is called ; at half after 
twelve, the man at the wheel strikes the bell near him 
o?ice, which is answered by the bell forward. At one 
o'clock, the bell is struck twice ; at half after one, three 
times, and so on till four o'clock, when eight bells are 
struck and the watch is changed. At half past four 
one bell is struck again, and so on. By this arrange- 
ment, the sailors in each of the two watches divide the 
time ; and by means of a half watch of two hours, 
which is inserted each day, they are alternately on 
deck and below at different times eaclwlay. 

After we had been at sea two or three days, the 
wind became light and unfavorable, and we had only 
wind enough, for one or two days, to steady the ship. 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 7 

The vessel had little more motion than there was in 
our houses at home, with the exception of an occa- 
sional light rocking. We went to sleep in our little 
state-rooms, as we would in our own beds. At night 
the vessel seemed shut up in a misty tent, and the 
broad sails gleamed spectrally in the pale light. 

There are few things to diversify life at sea. The 
log is cast, and from that we learn how fast the ship is 
going through the water, which information circulates 
through the cabin. About noon the captain gets out 
his sextant, and if the clouds will permit him, takes a 
solar observation. Some of the passengers take the 
instrument and try to get the sun's altitude also. 

After this the captain makes his calculation, and 
finally reports the position of the ship in the ocean. 
Then we find,where we are on the large chart of the 
Atlantic. We draw a line on the chart from the point 
where we were at noon yesterday, and see how far we 
have run in twenty-four hours. All this is highly en- 
tertaining to those who have nothing else to do, and 
occupies at least half an hour. 

Then some one on deck cries out, ' A whale ! ' and 
all the passengers leave their journals and letters, chess 
and checkers, and tumble over each other up the com- 
panion-way to see — not a whale, but some black fish 
spouting. Occasionally porpoises surround the vessel, 
leaping half way out of the water, and then plunging 
down again, the sunlight glittering from their shining 
sides. When we get near the Banks of Newfound- 
land, we see fishing vessels, and begin to wish that we 
may see an iceberg, but we no sooner express this 
wish, than the dangers from icebergs are pointed out, 



8 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

and we hope we shall not see one. An iceberg we 
did see, when close to the Grand Banks, about twelve 
miles to the north of us, at five o'clock in the evening. 
It resembled a mountain, on the horizon, of pyrami- 
dal form. The captain said it might be a hundred 
feet above water. The succeeding night was dark 
and foggy, and we went to our berths, in some dread 
of coming in contact with an iceberg, but the ship 
slipped quietly on, all night, though the sailors once 
thought they saw the ' lighting up,' over another. 

The question of icebergs came up at breakfast, and 
the captain said they were met with from April till 
August or September, but never in winter. The ice- 
berg travels slowly with the polar current, at the rate 
perhaps of a mile an hour, or less. The currents of 
the ocean are seldom so fast as that ; and the icebergs 
are moved by the current exclusively, for the wind has 
no apparent influence on them. But why they should 
only be seen in summer, is an unsettled question ; for 
if they come from the high shores of Greenland, even 
though all of them should set out together, we should 
suppose that some would travel faster than others, and 
that they w r ould arrive in southern latitudes, at different 
seasons of the year. 

The luminous appearance of the water at night is 
a beautiful sight. It streams away from the rudder 
behind the ship in rolling masses of white light, from 
which flash forth lambent flames, like the auroral 
streamers. Sometimes you see curling and wreathing 
lines of phosphorescence, and every where bright 
sparkles, like fire-flies, spangling the water. Mean- 
time, those faithful attendants of the ship, the sea- 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. J* 

chickens, (stormy petrel,) are chirping around the 
vessel, coming close to it in the night, under cover of 
the darkness. These little birds are found a thousand 
miles from land, almost always on the wing, though 
sometimes they rest on the water. 

But the chief incident at sea is seeing and meeting 
with other vessels, and especially carrying on a con- 
versation with them by means of signal flags. I was 
surprised, however, to find the ocean so bare of ships. 
Whole days passed in which we did not see a sail. 
Once, as I was standing on deck near the com- 
panion-way, the captain came up from the cabin, and 
no sooner was his head above the side of the stairway, 
than he said, ' Sail ho ! ' I had been looking around the 
horizon and had seen nothing, but the captain seemed to 
see it without looking. We were making very little pro- 
gress through the water, and the captain told us to get 
our letters ready for home, promising that if it should 
be a ship bound for the States, and we could come 
near enough, to send a boat aboard with our letters. 
So we all went to work, and wrote busily for an hour 
around the cabin table. Our letters being written, the 
captain tied them up in a bundle, and we went on 
deck. The vessel was yet some miles off, and we 
were steering directly toward her ; the sailors were 
getting the boat ready to let down into the water, when 
the captain, having scrutinized her through his spy- 
glass, said, 4 She is an English vessel bound to the 
colonies, 1 and ordered our ship to be put again upon 
its course. He knew that she was English by her 
general aspect; and that she was not bound to the 
States, by her being lightly laden, and not having 



10 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

emigrants on board, whom he did not see forward in 
her bows. This was quite a disappointment, for we 
had expected that our friends would hear from us a 
week sooner by this vessel. We passed her at a 
distance of a mile or two, and the two captains pro- 
ceeded to talk by signals. The signal-book was laid 
out on the deck, and we hoisted at the gaff the flags 
which meant 'What's your name ? ' Directly we saw 
four flags running up at her mizzen, which, as they 
fluttered out, were examined through the glass. Each 
stood for a number, and together they made the 
number of the vessel, say 3246, which, being looked 
out in the telegraph code, gave her name as 'The 
Superb.' She then ran up some signal flags, which 
proved to mean, ' What's your longitude ? ' Our cap- 
tain answered, ' Thirty degrees, forty miles.' She 
gave hers, in reply, 'Thirty degrees, twenty-eight 
miles,' being twelve miles difference. On this our 
captain coolly remarked, ' I should have said thirty 
miles if I had two threes.' He then ran up another 
signal, asking her, ' Where are you bound ? ' to which 
she answered ' Quebec,' showing the correctness of 
our captain's supposition. We asked, ' How many 
days out ? ' but she either thought it her turn to ask 
the next question, or she considered this a delicate 
one ; ships at sea not liking to admit that they have 
had a long passage. So she run up this question, 
' Will you report us at Lloyd's, or any other port you 
may make?' We answered, 'Yes;' and the vessels 
being now too far apart to distinguish the flags, the 
conversation closed. 

One afternoon, the wind freshened, it began to 



ELEVEN WEEKS TN EUROPE. 



11 



rain, and the waves rose more and more. The brave 
ship pitched nobly forward into the black masses of 
water, throwing sheets of foam from her bows. Blow- 
ing still stronger, we landsmen began to think it a 
gale, as the vessel lay over well on her side, and the 
furniture slipped about a little, but as our royals were 
not yet taken in, it was difficult to retain such an idea. 
We were even carrying three or four studding-sails, 
but the captain soon thought it best to have them 
hauled down. The log still gave ten knots an hour, 
as the rate of our going. It was raining hard, but the 
captain provided three or four of us with dread-noughts, 
oil-skin coats and hats, and water-proof dresses gene- 
rally, and so we walked the slanting slippery deck with 
him, he exulting in the breeze. But the breeze blew 
harder, and the vessel leaned over more. ; The trot 
became a gallop soon,' and so ' Take in those royals, 
sir,' was briefly ejaculated. The ship rose, relieved 
after each canvass was taken off her, but soon was 
leaning over again. The barometer, too, was falling, 
and all things betokened a squally night. We had 
now taken in most of the sails. We went down to 
tea ; after tea, we had prayers, sang our hymn, and 
then went to reading, writing, or playing chess, as 
usual. But one and another became sick, and laid 
himself down, and the inkstand would slip away from 
a third. As I was playing chess with Mr. M., our 
chess-men made a simultaneous move to leeward. 
The king knocked down a bishop, who was threatening 
him with ' check.'' A red queen commenced a flirta- 
tation with a white knight, and a castle and the other 
queen waltzed off the board in company. So we put 



12 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

away the men, and I went again on deck. The rain 
and wind continued, and I found the top-gallant sails 
taken in, and the lower sails mostly clewed up. She 
was running under top-sails, but still running fast 
enough. The sheets of fiery water flew from her 
sides in every direction, as she rose out of the boiling 
mass and shook it off her bows. The sea around was 
sprinkled with the sparks of fire like fire-flies. So we 
ran; the log giving ten miles an hour, which afterward 
became eleven and a half, which, under topsails, was 
a very good rate. 

But we could not make a gale of it, after all ; it was 
only a topsail breeze, so that I was deprived of the 
privilege which seems almost universally accorded to 
those that cross the Atlantic, of being out ' in the worst 
gale the captain ever saw.' As we were sitting at the 
cabin table, the next day, all at work on our journals, 
Captain C. came in and said, ' I should like to see all 
these journals published,' adding, 'I think that after 
this, my name will be in all the churches,' alluding to 
the number of ministers on board. 

And here I will say a word about our good cap- 
tain. He is a Massachusetts man, living at Ipswich 
when at home, a member of an orthodox church, a 
sensible, respectable gentleman, who, if he were not a 
captain at sea, would make a very good deacon at 
home. He is quick, clear, and decided in all his opin- 
ions, knows what he thinks and why, and would gladly 
have other people as accurate as himself. All non- 
sense has been washed out of his head by the sea, for 
there is nothing like a sea life to demolish vagueness 
and indefiniteness. Our captain would be allowed to 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 13 

enter Plato's academy, over the door of which was 
written, ' Let no ungeometrical person enter here ; ! 
that is, as I suppose, no one whose thoughts want defi- 
nite outline. Water itself is the indefinite element, 
without fixed outline or limit ; formless, capable of all 
form. But for this very reason, it makes all who deal 
with it the opposite of itself, developing the qualities of 
decision, precision, exact thought, and exact expres- 
sion. In a ship there is a place for every thing, and 
every thing must be in its place. Every rope must 
be coiled up the moment it is not in use, for a rope 
out of place might cause the loss of the vessel. The 
largest ship is too small to allow of any waste room, 
and every square inch is made of use. The same 
perfect order presides over language at sea. Every 
thing has its own name, every action a precise phrase 
by which to express it, which must not be changed for 
any other. Different things must not only have differ- 
ent names, but names which sound differently, lest one 
should be mistaken for the other. Thus, starboard 
means right, and larboard, left. An officer says, 
'Starboard your helm,' when he wants it put to the 
right. But he never says ' Larboard your helm,' for 
in the tumult of a gale, one sound might be mistaken 
for the other. So when he wants it put to the left, he 
says ' Port your helm,' or ' Hard to port.' Sea lan- 
guage is therefore the most definite language in the 
world ; it has no synonymes, and no one can ever use 
it correctly who has not himself been a sailor, and 
learnt it by experience. The blunders of a landsman, 
who tries to use sea talk, are amusing enough. There 
is a nautical hymn in our hymn-books beginning 



14 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

' Launch your boat, Mariner,' which is full of these 
errors. In the second stanza the mariner is directed 
to ' Look to the weather-bow,' and the reason assign- 
ed is that ' Breakers are round thee.' The sailor under 
these circumstances would probably think it better to 
look to leeward, for there would be very little danger 
of drifting upon rocks which lay off the weather-bow. 
He then is directed to ' Let fall his plummet,' and to 
8 take a reef in his fore-sail,' all which may be well 
enough, though when the ship was among breakers, 
the sailor would probably have something else to do 
beside casting the lead and taking reefs. But the next 
direction is quite startling. It is to ' Let the vessel 
wear.' To ' wear ship,' in a heavy gale and among 
breakers, is probably an operation which no one but a 
nautical poet would think of recommending. Such 
are the risks of attempting the use of sea language. 

If our captain had not been a very good-natured 
man, he would have been much perplexed by the ten 
thousand foolish questions which we all asked him. 
Most of the passengers were as ignorant of all sea 
matters as babes, and earnestly bent on the acquisition 
of useful knowledge ; and so he ran the gauntlet of 
questions wherever he went. The dinner-table, espe- 
cially, presented a fine opportunity for the gentlemen 
who sat on either side of him, to ask questions. For 
example, Mr. A. says, ' How much do you pay the 
pilot, captain ? ' 'By the ship's draught, sir ; so much 
a foot.' Mr. A. — 6 How much does your vessel draw ?' 
Captain. — ' A short eighteen feet.' Mr. A. — ' You 
pay eighteen dollars then.' Captain. — 'No sir, more 
than that.' Mr. A. — ' More than a dollar a foot, sir ? ' 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 15 

Captain. — 'Yes sir, two perhaps.' Mr. B. — 'How 
does the pilot get aboard ? Do you send your boat 
for him ? ' Captain. — ' He comes in his own boat.' 
Mr. B. — ' And what becomes of the boat ? ' Captain, 
(laughing.) — 'The men row it back.' Mr. B., (re- 
flecting.) — ' Oh ! he has some men with him, I sup- 
pose.' Our whole company of passengers catechised 
the captain about every noise on deck, and every 
order given ; and he was obliged to say, at least twenty 
times over, what things must have duties paid on them 
in Liverpool, and what not. The following catechism 
I wrote down just as it occurred. Mr. O., (who is 
writing a letter to send back from Liverpool. ) — ' Shall 
I write "per steamer" on the outside of this letter?' 
Captain. — ' Yes sir.' Mr. O. — 'And then put it in 
the post-office ? ' Captain. — ' Yes sir.' Mr. O. — ' Or 
I may send it from the hotel to the post-office.' Cap- 
tain. — ' You may, sir.' Mr. O. — 'I suppose I shall 
find some one to take it for me, shall I not ? ' Cap- 
tain. — ' No doubt, sir.' This conversation, which ac- 
tually took place, is a fair specimen of the questions 
we asked him all day long. Therefore, among the 
other functions of a sea-captain, seems to be that of 
instructing every new company of passengers in the 
elements of navigation. They not only put questions 
which a child might answer without much reflection, 
but also questions which could only be answered by a 
necromancer or a clairvoyant. As soon as a vessel is 
seen on the horizon, every one runs to the captain 
and asks, " What vessel is that ? Where is it from ? 
Where is it going, do you suppose ? ' Our captain 
had got used to it, however ; for he took it all tran- 



16 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

quilly, and never, to my knowledge, made a sharp 
reply. 

I have mentioned that we formed a society among 
the passengers, for the discussion of peace questions, 
which we called the ' Plymouth Rock Pilgrim Associ- 
ation.' For twelve or fourteen evenings, we examined 
quite thoroughly all the principal questions which were 
likely to be agitated at the Peace Congress in Paris. 
In fact, the discussions at that Peace Congress were 
far inferior, in my opinion, to those held in our little 
cabin, so far as substantial information was concerned. 
We had among us a fair representation of all the dif- 
ferent views entertained among peace men. Our 
excellent chairman, whom I will call Mr, A., was 
somewhat conservative ; he was a peace man of the 
old school, disliking ultraism, and abhorring non- 
resistance ; he was very desirous that the magistrate 
should not ' bear the sword in vain,' and, in the opin- 
ion of some of the association, gave himself altogether 
too much trouble in defending the magistrate's sword. 
On the other hand, we had among us Mr. D., an 
excellent person ; earnest, full of moral life and ener- 
gy, with a generous spirit and pure purpose, and 
belonging to that class of reformers who wish to take 
what they call high ground. He speaks and writes as 
if he were opposed to the use of force in all cases. 
He declares himself opposed to all wars, offensive 
and defensive. He speaks with disapprobation of the 
low ground taken by the American Peace Society, 
though they too oppose all war. But if you ask him 
what he would do with Indians who attack our fron- 
tiers, pirates who seize our merchant vessels, with 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 17 

robbers and marauders, he replies that he will leave 
those matters to settle themselves. ' What if a nation 
invades and attacks us ? ' Mr. D. answers, ' That 
cannot take place in this age.' Mention to him that 
it has taken place in the invasion of Mexico by the 
United States army, the unprovoked attack on Rome 
by the French, and the unprovoked invasion of Hun- 
gary by the Russians ; he replies, ' Oh, I approve of 
republican institutions, and think the Russians and 
French much in the wrong. But I do not choose to 
prepare for such occasions. I leave them to be set- 
tled at the 111X10.' Yes, but the question is, are they 
to be settled at the time according to Christian princi- 
ples, or according to chance impulses ; and if the for- 
mer, is it not your duty as a professed teacher of the 
Christian doctrine of peace, to say now, what ought to 
be done in such circumstances ? Thus thinking, I 
wrote in my journal the following lines: — 

TO THE ONE-SIDED REFORMER. 

Why urge me, dear reforming brother, 
To take the ' highest ground ' with you ? 

The only highest ground I know of, 
Is that which gives the widest view. 

Our captain, who assisted at these discussions, rep- 
resented another class of men ; namely, those plain, 
practical thinkers, who really wish an end to war, but. 
are careful to bring every plan for that object to the 
test of actual experience. On some points, as, for 
instance, the uselessness and evil of the militia sys- 
tem, his observation led him to agree fully with Mr. 
D. : but he wanted to have some distinct method 



18 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

arranged for dealing with pirates. He was by no 
means willing to leave that question to settle itself at 
the time. 

Then there was my friend Mr. H., a young man of 
clear intellect, fine taste, and thorough culture ; ardent 
in the cause of human progress, but plainly seeing the 
necessity of understanding all the difficulties in its 
way. Without particularly mentioning the rest of our 
members, it is enough to say that they each brought a 
valuable contribution to our discussions. And without 
describing the course of our debates, I will give the 
general results to which my own mind w r as brought by 
means of them. 



One of the great difficulties in the way of the peace 
movement, thus far, has been the want of a practical 
aim. The peace statements have been either general 
ones to which every body agreed, or else vague and 
indistinct. The peace men declared that war is a 
great evil. Every body said ' Yes.'' If to believe 
that war is a great evil, constitutes a friend of peace, 
then Napoleon Bonaparte was a friend of peace, and 
so too is the Duke of AVellington, and the Emperor of 
Russia. If this is your formula, the greatest war- 
makers in the world are ready to sign it. The difficul- 
ty of this peace doctrine is, that every body agrees to 
it. If you wish to make the world better by argument 
and persuasion, you must have a proposition which 
somebody doubts. Otherwise it is plain you can con- 
vince nobody. 

Well, what next ? The next proposition of the 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 19 

peace societies was, You must have as little war as ])os- 
sible, you must only make war when war is necessary. 
But every body agrees to this proposition also. A wise 
and good friend of mine defended the English inva- 
sion of the Sikh Territory, as absolutely necessary, in 
order to maintain their power in India, the overthrow 
of which would bring ruin on three hundred millions 
of people. John Quincy Adams defended the inva- 
sion of China by the English, because the Chinese 
would not take the English opium. Mr. Polk thought, 
or pretended to think, the war against Mexico neces- 
sary to defend our country from invasion. To say, 
therefore, that we must only fight when it is necessary, 
is virtually saying nothing. 

Practical men, therefore, have hitherto looked with 
some contempt on the peace movement. It has seemed 
to them like that of one who is beating the air. The 
peace advocates seemed to them well-meaning people, 
but rather weak, who supposed themselves to be doing 
good because they were making speeches, and circu- 
lating tracts, to convince people of what they believed 
already. 

The question, therefore, to be answered by the 
friends of peace, at the present time, is this, — ' What 
do you propose to do ? What is your aim ? ' 

The answer of the friends of peace at the present 
day, is no longer vague or indefinite. They say, — 

First. That the system of war, now maintained by 
Christian nations, for the settlement of international 
disputes, should be entirely abandoned, and a new 
and peaceful system take the place of it. Second. 
That the whole warlike organization of Christian 



20 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

nations should be dissolved ; that there should be no 
more armies, navies, forts, or military schools ; and 
that, for all necessary purposes, a civil force should 
be substituted for the military force. Third. There 
should be a Congress of nations, composed of dele- 
gates regularly appointed by the governments of Chris- 
tendom, to settle the principles of international law. 
Fourth. There should be a high court of nations, sitting 
permanently, and composed of judges appointed by 
each nation, to try and decide all international disputes 
according to this code of laws. Fifth. The penalty 
for refusing to submit to the decision of such a court, 
in addition to the judgment of public opinion, might 
be an embargo on trade, and non-intercourse with the 
nation so refusing. Sixth. An adequate police force 
might be maintained at sea, and on land, to repress 
insurrections, to punish pirates, &c. 

This plan, as it seems to me, combines the advan- 
tages of being distinct, practicable, and effectual. 

It is distinct. It declares that the present method 
adopted by civilized nations for settling their disputes 
among themselves, is that of a great military system. 
It is maintained at an enormous expense. It is an 
ineffectual system, and an unchristian system. It is 
ineffectual, for no dispute is ever settled by it ; a dis- 
pute ends, but is not settled. No just principles are 
evolved by war. After the two nations have injured 
each other as much as possible, matters are left usually 
as they were before. 

This plan is practicable. Nations can be brought 
to adopt it. No doubt, such a system seems strange 
to us now, but it is in reality much more in accord- 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 21 

ance with our present state of civilization, and with the 
spirit of the present age, than the system of war. The 
tendency of things is toward such a system as this. 
There was a time, and that not long since, when pri- 
vate wars were carried on in all the countries of 
Europe. One nobleman led out his troops to fight 
with another. Towns fought with towns. There was 
a time since then, in which individuals went armed in 
the streets, and defended themselves with their swords 
on all occasions. All this has passed by; disputes 
between towns and individuals are now settled by law, 
not by force. It is only between nations, that force 
continues to be the arbiter. This too is passing away. 
The United States of America consist of thirty inde- 
pendent nations, which settle their disputes among 
themselves, by an appeal to an international tribunal. 
Why may not a similar tribunal settle disputes among 
all nations ? 

If it be objected that an unarmed nation may be 
invaded, and that therefore a military system is neces- 
sary, I do not answer, as the friends of peace some- 
times do, that an unarmed nation cannot be attacked. 
It is not likely to be attacked, for armaments and 
fortifications are great temptations to an enemy. Still, 
it is not impossible, as history shows, that a nation 
without any military force should be invaded by an 
ambitious and warlike neighbor. But history also 
shows that the invader, in such cases, is more easily 
defeated by the nation which has no standing army, 
than by one which has. So the unarmed Swiss 
defeated the troops of Burgundy and Austria ; so the 
Greeks, with no standing army, defeated the vast 



22 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

forces of the Persians ; so the citizen soldiers of the 
United States defeated, in the revolutionary war, the 
disciplined troops of England. But the Roman Em- 
pire, with its standing army of thirty legions, was over- 
run and conquered by the northern barbarians. And 
the reason is obvious, — when a nation which has no 
military force is invaded, the whole people feel called 
upon to defend their homes, when, otherwise, the 
defence would be left to the hired soldiers. Such an 
extemporaneous resistance must always be most effi- 
cient. An army is easily conquered ; not so a nation. 

If it be objected that a military system is necessary 
for internal police, I reply, that the people themselves 
are more efficient than soldiers in quelling mobs or 
putting down insurrections. This was signally shown 
in the Chartist demonstrations in England a few years 
since. The danger seemed imminent that the British 
government would be overthrown ; but though that 
government had one of the most powerful armies in 
the world, the army was not used ; though its arsenals 
were crowded with the munitions of war, they were 
not touched. The Duke of Wellington, to whom the 
defence of the government was committed, a soldier 
himself, did not trust to soldiers. He called upon the 
citizens to come forward and defend their institutions ; 
and two hundred thousand of them were sworn in, as 
special constables. That was enough; the Chartists 
were overawed by this display of the public sentiment. 
Far more terrible to a mob is the word people, than 
the word soldier. 

There is but one more serious objection to the plan 
of the friends of peace, but that, I admit, is the most 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 23 

formidable. 'The plan is impracticable, because it is 
impracticable. It is impracticable, because it can't be 
done.' We have been so accustomed to suns and 
cannon, that we take it for granted that they cannot 
be dispensed with. People always have fought and 
always will fight. Peace, universal peace, is a vision, 
beautiful, but impossible to be realized. It is visionary, 
airy, hopeless, &c, &c, &c. This probably is the 
most efficient argument against the peace movement, 
as it is the most effective argument against every other 
improvement or reform. 

But, fortunately, this is an argument which can be 
removed by dint of talking. A new thing seems 
absurd to most persons, till they have heard it talked 
about a good deal, and then it seems very rational. 
The railroad to the Pacific seemed a ridiculous propo- 
sition when it was first mentioned, but it has been 
talked about till it seems quite feasible. The friends 
of peace, therefore, do well in keeping the subject of 
peace before the public mind. If the Peace Congress 
do no more than this, they will do good. 

But the work which the friends of peace have to do, 
is a great and noble one. Its negative side is to de- 
stroy the war spirit and war institutions ; its positive 
side is to create the peace spirit and peace institutions. 

The war spirit is not to be confounded with the 
heroism which has sanctified and ennobled it. War 
has not been all evil ; it would be a libel on mankind 
to say so. If men had loved war for the sake of its 
horrors and atrocities, it would argue a depravity in 
man which would make the reformer's task a hopeless 
one. Our hope is, in being able to separate the heroic 



24 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

soul of war from its brutal body. We do not oppose 
the generous patriotism which spends a day in dying 
in a mountain-pass to defend its country ; we do not 
preach peace to cowards, but to the brave. We op- 
pose the cruelty, treachery, brutality, which covets its 
neighbor's possessions, envies its neighbor's prosperity, 
desires its neighbor's downfall. We would provide a 
higher work and fairer field for all true heroes. 

We also wish to destroy war as a system and insti- 
tution ; because, though the war spirit has created the 
institution, yet the institution maintains and increases 
the war spirit. If we had not the institution already 
existing, the apparatus of war, the organized army and 
navy, the ships and forts, the gunpowder and cannon, 
the martial music, the banners and uniforms, the iron 
machinery and the golden ornaments, — if these did 
not exist, but had to be now for the first time invented, 
the spirit of this age would not invent them. These 
are the fossil remains of a past epoch, and if once 
fairly out of the way, could not be reproduced by the 
creative soul of this time. 

The creative soul of this time, which is to make all 
things new, is itself the peace spirit. It is the spirit 
of universal union and co-operation. It is the spirit 
which is breaking down all the barriers of old preju- 
dice which have separated man from man, nation from 
nation, and race from race. It is the spirit which frees 
commerce from its restrictions ; which gives us free 
postage, steam-ships, railroads and telegraphs ; which 
brings man into helpful relations with man every where. 
The original tendencies of the present century are all 
synthetic. In philosophy, religion, science, art, educa- 



ELEVEN WEEKS JN EUROPE. 25 

tion, social life and industry, men are putting together, 
not taking apart ; building up, and not pulling down ; 
uniting, and not separating. This is the spirit which 
will help the friends of peace, and which the friends 
of peace are to help. 

Finally, we have to create peaceful institutions, to 
supply the place of warlike institutions. It is not 
premature, therefore, to recommend a Congress of 
Nations, to fix and codify international law, and a High 
Court of Nations to decide disputes under it. ' The 
soul of man,' say the Buddhists, 4 is like a leech ; it 
will not let go at one end till it has taken hold of some- 
thing with the other.' Men will not give up one insti- 
tution or creed, bad though it be, till something better 
is provided to take the place of it. 



On the morning of the 24th of July, at half past 
three, the captain^ came and touched me, as I lay 
asleep, and said, ' Do you want to see Ireland ? ' I 
started up, and went on deck, and there it lay, a long 
strip of blue, hilly coast, in the rosy morning streak of 
light. It was the mountainous coast near Cape Clear. 
It came on to rain, and then the wind became opposite 
to us, and we had to beat several hours, now running 
up to the coast, and then standing off again. But in 
the afternoon it became bright again, and the wind 
hauled aft, and we ran on our way gallantly. The 
coast lay on our north, purple and blue, mountainous 
enough, and with black rocky shores, bold headlands, 
and bleak hill-sides ; but between the hills we saw 
fields of grain and grass, houses here and there, and 



26 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 



many low buildings, which we took for the cottages of 
the peasants. 

A boat from a pilot sloop came along-side, and we 
got from it a copy of the Times of July 10th, which 
we were glad to get, though a fortnight old, for it was 
seventeen days later than our last European news, 
which was only up to June 24th. Then another boat 
appeared, rowing toward us, and rising as it were out 
of the ocean. Four or five ragged fellows were in 
her, and they hailed us, holding up a basket with some- 
thing to sell. When they got along-side, it proved to 
be a bushel of potatoes, which they had rowed several 
miles, for the chance of selling. 

Next morning, at seven, we were still running along 
the southern coast of Ireland, off the county of Cork. 
It was a fine clear day, blue sky, and warm sun, and 
every thing pleasant about the ship. We saw the 
floating light, the Salteese Islands, a British steamer 
on its way to Cork, some villages and villas on the 
shore, one undoubted ruined tower or castle of gray 
stone, and, behind all, a multitude of high hills and 
mountains. At noon we passed Tuscar Light, and 
entered St. George's Channel. 

Next morning at seven we were inside of Holyhead 
Light on the Isle of Anglesea, and a pilot-boat was 
coming to us. We took the pilot on board, and he 
assumed henceforth the management of the ship. 
About two we were sailing up the river Mersey, here 
a broad arm of the sea. A steam tow-boat came to 
take us up, but having a fair wind, and going some 
eight miles an hour, we declined its aid for the present 
with many thanks. So the little thing kept along by 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 27 

the side of our great ship, restraining its speed so as 
to go just as fast as we did. Thus I have seen a dog 
trotting by the side of his master, occasionally running 
ahead and then tranquilly reducing his pace again. 
I was struck with the ease with which it was steered. 
Once or twice it came within a foot of our vessel to let 
a man step on board, and then fell off again ; boat and 
ship being both under way. 

These little steamers are the most striking features 
(next the docks) in the port of Liverpool. They run 
to and fro, busy as ants, and keep the river as active 
as a street with carriages ; many are tug-boats, some 
ferry-boats, and some are bound to the various ports 
of England, Ireland, Wales, and Scotland. 

Before we came to anchor, another little steam-boat 
ran along-side, to bring a letter directed to the dele- 
gates to the Peace Convention. This letter was from 
Mr. Rathbone, of Liverpool, a gentleman connected 
with the Peace Society of Liverpool, and was sent to 
welcome us, and to offer his aid to us as we might 
need it. 

Having now arrived at Liverpool, I will close this 
chapter, with a few practical suggestions for the bene- 
fit of those who may be about taking the same trip. 

In going to Europe, especially in the summer, a 
packet-ship of the first class is preferable, on many 
accounts, to a steamer. The winds on the North At- 
lantic being mostly from the west, one is not likely to 
have a very long passage. The time varies from two 
weeks to four. We were twenty days, in which time 
one cannot become very tired of the ocean. In fact, 
less than this does not give you an impression of the 



28 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

vastness of the sea, and of your separation and soli- 
tude upon it. Again, in the cabin of the packet you 
have more room, less crowd, better ventilation. The 
motion of the steamer is much more disagreeable than 
that of the packet, which last is steadied by its sails. 
Finally, the price is much less. 

A person going to sea should take always thick 
clothes, for there is no warm weather on the ocean. 
One should take to sea, shoes or boots with thick soles, 
for the decks are always wet or damp. 



CHAPTER II. 

NORTH WALES AND THE LAKES. 

It was in the afternoon when we stepped ashore at 
Liverpool, from the little steamer which brought us 
from our ship. The noble ship itself lay at anchor in 
the river, its berth in the docks not being ready. 
These docks constitute the most striking feature of 
the port of Liverpool. As you approach the city, 
you see long rows of brick ware-houses on the river 
front, with gates here and there opening between 
them. Behind these warehouses rise the masts of 
innumerable vessels, which are safely locked up 
within, like sheep in a fold. 

So, then, we were really in England ; but, as yet, 
there was nothing to make us realize it, for Liverpool 
looks very like New York or Philadelphia. We went 
to the Waterloo Hotel, a small but comfortable house, 
where Americans do mostly congregate. Here I had 
my first experience of an English inn, and it resembled 
most of those which I afterward saw. You are met 
at the door by a smiling young lady, with curls on her 
cheeks and a smart cap on her head, who enters your 
name in her book, asks you if you will have a chamber, 
if you will take tea, sends the porter for your trunks, 
and calls the chamber-maid to show you to your room. 
This young lady presides in a small central office, and 



30 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

to her you must go if you want dinner, and her you 
must pay when you are about to leave. Turning 
about I looked for the parlor ; but there is no public 
parlor in English hotels, neither for ladies nor gentle- 
men. If you have a lady with you, you must engage 
a private parlor; if you are alone, you may go into 
the coffee-room. The coffee-room is a small room, 
with one or two tables in the middle, on which lie the 
London newspapers, with small tables around its sides, 
each large enough to accommodate four persons, and 
each in a little recess by itself. There is no public 
table as in the United States, nor table d'hote as on 
the Continent, but each man orders his dinner or i^a 
when he wants it. To attend to these orders, a waiter 
is gliding about the room in noiseless slippers and 
white cravat. This waiter is always a small, dried up 
man, past the middle age, very obsequious, and never 
without his white cravat. In fact, he does not seem 
to have altered since the days of Shakspeare, and his 
' Coming, sir,' constantly reminded me of ' Francis ; ' 
and I half expected to see Sir John Falstaff, and the 
merry Prince Harry. Two or three of our ship's com- 
pany took tea together at one of these little mahogany 
tables in the coffee-room. On the table stood two 
little plates containing strawberries so large, that they 
seemed to have come from Brobdignag. There was 
also potted lobster, and a dish of shrimps, unintelli- 
gible looking little monsters, which we did not venture 
to touch. 

The next morning I took a walk before breakfast, 
saw the market, which was full of strawberries and 
cherries, and other fruits, the season of which had 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 31 

been over three or four weeks before in Boston. In 
the forenoon I went to the custom-house to get my 
trunk, which had been carried there from the vessel. 
In the ante-room, I found most of our passengers as- 
sembled. The trunks had all been taken into an inner 
room, and we were called in, one at a time, to open 
them and show their contents. In Liverpool almost 
the only things which they look for, at the custom- 
house, are books and cigars. Each person is' allowed 
to take a few cigars, duty free, for his own use ; on all 
the rest a heavy duty is paid, and there is a severe 
penalty for any attempt at concealment. Books print- 
ed in England pay no duty when carried there again. 
Books written and printed in America pay a duty of 
sixpence a pound, about twelve cents. English books, 
printed in America, are not admitted at all, but are 
forfeited. The right way to act upon these occasions, 
is to open all your trunks and packages at once, of 
your own accord, and then the inspector is easily 
satisfied ; any reluctance is sure to provoke a sharp 
examination. I had put on the top of my trunk, in 
full sight, every thing which paid duty ; and the officer 
gave a very hasty examination to the rest of the trunk, 
merely lifting the clothes slightly on one side, and 
saying, ' Are these only your clothes, sir ? ' 

Oh ! the delight of a letter from home, after being 
absent a month. The bankers to whom you have 
letters of credit, usually receive your letters, and for- 
ward them for you to any place you may designate. 
It is almost worth while to be a banker, to witness the 
pleasure of those to whom they hand letters from 
home. After seeing a few more public buildings, 



32 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

finishing letters to go to America by the next day's 
steamer, and attending a meeting of the Peace Con- 
gress delegates, I set off at four o'clock with Mr. H., 
taking the cars at Birkenhead, on the opposite side of 
the Mersey, for the old city of Chester, in the county 
of Cheshire, and we were there before five o'clock. 

It was a lovely summer afternoon, and we flew 
along between green hedges and fields of grain smiling 
in the warm sunlight. This first view of English 
country scenery was very pleasant. At last the train 
stopped, and we saw the square tower of a cathedral 
above the trees. We took our carpet-bags in our 
hands, and walked half a mile to the town. A strange 
old place it seemed to be. Narrow streets, like lanes 
or back passages, houses of all forms and sizes, painted 
grotesquely in squares and triangles, with little gables, 
apparently pitching headforemost into the street, were 
the first things that met our eyes. Directly we came 
to a sort of bridge, spanning the street like a triumphal 
arch, with men walking on the top ; this proved to 
be a gateway in the old city wall. We stopped at 
the Royal Hotel ; and while my companion took his 
dinner, I went out to make discoveries. Presently a 
man ran up and touched his hat, saying, ' Would you 
like to be shown about the city, sir ? ' I calmly re- 
plied, 'Instead of giving you a shilling to show me 
the city, I will give you a sixpence not to show it.' 
He looked much puzzled, and, taking advantage of his 
confusion, I walked away, and soon found myself close 
1o the cathedral. It is built, like all the old buildings 
here, of a soft, red sandstone, and all the stones in the 
oldest part are rounded off, or weather-worn. 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 33 

Passing round the cathedral, T came to an old gate- 
way which led to the cloisters, which are a covered 
walk, opening into a square interior quadrangle, of 
soft, green sward. Here the monks had paced to and 
fro, five hundred years before ; for the cathedral was 
the church of the dissolved Abbey of St. Werburgh. 
Parts of the abbey still remain. It was strange to 
me, to find myself walking in these quiet passages 
which holy feet (or at all events monkish feet) had 
worn so long before. I took but a look, and turned 
out again, and presently came to the city wall, which 
goes around part of the city, and through another part. 
Ascending by a flight of steps, I walked on the top, above 
the roofs of the houses, till I came to where the main 
street went below it ; then descending, returned to the 
inn, and told H. of the great discoveries I had made, 
and the wonders which awaited us. 

We then went together to the cathedral, and though 
it was by no means one of the finest in England, 
yet being our first cathedral, the sight of it made an 
epoch. 1 We found the verger more of an enthusiast 

1 St. Werburgh's Abbey was of great and unquestionable 
antiquity. It is supposed to have been a nunnery founded in 
660 by the King of Mercia, in accordance with the wishes of 
his daughter, St. Werburgh, and it was probably ruined by the 
Danes, who took Chester in 895. In place of the nuns, a so- 
ciety of canons was established by Ethelfleda, the daughter of 
Alfred. A colony of Benedictines was introduced in their 
place by Hugh Lupus, Earl of Chester, about A. D. 1200. The 
abbey was dissolved by Henry VIII. , and the church made a 
cathedral in 1541. All the Saxon part of this building and that 
erected by Hugh Lupus is probably gone. The tower was fin- 
ished in 1485 ; the west end was built in 1508. 
s 3 



34 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

than vergers usually are, and he seemed to make our 
joy at the sight of his cathedral i his own by gentle 
sympathy.' He first showed us the cloisters ; then the 
vestibule leading to the chapter-house from the clois- 
ters ; then the chapter-house ; then the nave of the 
church; and, lastly, the choir and some side chapels. 
In the arched stone roof of the vestibule we saw the 
commencement of the pointed arch. The chapter-house, 
in which the canons hold their meetings, is a noble 
room with book shelves around the lower part, and 
above them immense gothic windows, with a double 
plane of mullions and spaces between them, making a 
passage all around the room. These spaces we entered 
through a secret sliding oak pannel and spiral stone stairs 
cut in the solid wall. What the object of this walk- 
ing space was, half way up the side of the room, our 
enthusiastic old verger could not tell us. But I shall 
not forget the delight of my friend H. in these dark, 
mysterious passages. Next we visited the nave of the 
church, which, though the largest part, is never used 
for services. It is about seventy-five feet high, and 
the roof supported by gigantic stone columns. The 
choir is the part of the church which is separated 
from the rest for worship, and where services are held 
twice a day by the canons, who read and chant the 
morning and evening lessons. This is the case in all 
the English cathedrals. The chanting is usually clone 
by half a dozen boys, who are drilled for that purpose, 
and dressed in white surplices. They are usually 
rather a rough looking set of fellows, not always wash- 
ed nor combed. The only verses which David Hume 
is known to have written, relate to these boys ; one 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 3;") 

line being, ' Where godless boys God's praises sing.' 
The seats in the choir are of oak, beautifully carved. 
This carving, though several hundred years old, is so 
exquisitely fresh, that I thought it lately done. Above 
the seats is a canopy of carved oak, extending around 
the room, worked into hundreds of little pinnacles in 
the most exquisite way. The arms of the seats are 
cut into the heads of saints, angels, and other devices, 
with an infinite amount of labor. Then there is a 
splendid Episcopal throne and canopy of stone richly 
carved, which was the shrine of the old Saxon saint to 
whom the abbey was originally dedicated. In a side 
aisle was a stone sarcophagus, formerly containing the 
body of some old baron. It was painted in durable 
colors on the side. Then, by a stairway hidden in the 
wall, we ascended to the triforium, where, in most of 
the cathedrals as here, there is a passage running 
around the inside of the whole church. It is some 
twenty- five feet above the floor ; and here, they say, 
the nuns used to stand concealed from view, and hear 
the service, and this perhaps is a very faint germ of 
the modern galleries. We also pursued this dark 
passage till it brought us to the roof of the cathedral. 
Here we looked down upon the city as it lay below us, 
bathed in the light of the afternoon sun, now hastening 
to his setting. We saw the little spots of shaven turf, 
and ladies in their gardens tending their flowers. We 
saw the city wall, the old castle of Chester, the river 
Dee winding through the fields, and in the distance the 
blue mountains of Wales. 'Here,' said H., ' the old 
monks used to watch and see the wild Welsh coming 
down from the mountains. 1 We climbed around the 



36 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

corners of the great square tower, which rose from the 
centre of the building, so as to go in turn upon the 
roof of the nave, choir, and transepts ; and at last 
came down, but not till the verger shouted up through 
the passage-way that he should have to lock us in if 
we staid any longer. We were amazingly delighted 
with every thing, and also pleased the old verger's 
wife with an extra gratuity. 

After all this, we still had time in the long summer 
twilight of England to see the curious old streets, two 
small churches under repair, and finally to go around 
the city on the top of the old wall which serves for a 
promenade for the inhabitants. 1 Here they were tak- 
ing their evening walk, and as we passed along we 
met them singly or in groups. The river Dee runs 
close to the wall, and by the side of it we lingered, 
gathering; flowers. We seemed to have been whirled 
away into some imaginary region, to a great distance 
from the nineteenth century. But it grew dark ; every 
thing must have an end ; so we came back to our 
hotel, and, while drinking our tea, congratulated each 
other upon the fine time we had had. What with our 
talk, and finishing some more letters for the next day's 
steamer, it was late before we retired. 

The first thing I saw in the morning, in looking from 

1 The circuit of the walls is a mile and three quarters, and 
shows the limits of the ancient Roman and Saxon city. It 
was made a camp previous to Agricola's invasion of Scotland, 
and was the head-quarters of the twentieth Roman legion. The 
Roman modes of fortification are evident in the arrangement 
of the round towers in the wall, and some Roman work prob- 
ably remains in the walls themselves. 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 



37 



the chamber window, was the old cathedral tower, 
which looked very picturesque in the soft misty air. 
I took our letters to the post-office, but found that there 
was no mail going to Liverpool in time for the steamer. 
But, as a train of cars was just starting, I jumped into 
a cab, and went to the station, and soon selected a 
respectable looking old gentleman, in gold spectacles, 
and said, 'Are you going to Liverpool, sir?' He 
answered, ' Yes.' ' Do you go near the post-office ? ' 
'Close by.' 'Will you then be so kind as to take 
these letters and drop them in ? I wish them to go by 
to-day's steamer, to America, and they are too late for 
the mail.' ' Certainly, sir,' said he, ' they shall be put 
in as carefully as if you were there yourself.' He 
then pulled out his card, and handed it to me, on which 
was written his name. ' That is my name ; add Liver- 
pool, and you have my address. I am well known 
there, sir.' Not satisfied with this guarantee, he called 
another old gentleman, in tights, who was passing, and 
said, ' This, sir, is an American gentleman, who has 
given me these letters to put in the Liverpool post-office ; 
you shall be his witness that I have taken charge of 
them.' I told him it was not necessary, for that I had 
trusted his looks, and so departed. I need not add 
that the letters arrived safely. 

Another pleasant little incident had occurred the pre- 
vious evening, which also tended to elevate my opinion 
of English cordiality. Passing an old church under 
repair, I saw on the door the notice, ' No admittance 
except on business,' and so walked in. Seeing two 
gentlemen talking together, one in a white cravat, a 
sign in England of a clergyman or a waiter, I went 



38 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

to him and said, 1 1 am breaking your laws, sir, by- 
coming in, but I am a stranger, and wish to see what 
you arc doing.' He welcomed me very cordially, 
and proceeded to tell how his fine old church had been 
plastered over, boarded and planked up, and all its 
excellent points spoiled, during the dark ages of archi- 
tecture, (which are supposed to reach from 1600 to 
1800 ;) and how he, aided by the other gentleman, 
who (he whispered,) was the architect, and a man of 
taste, were restoring it by pulling down the high 
pews, tearing away the planks and plaster, uncovering 
again the stone wall with its carvings, inserting a little 
colored glass in the windows, &c. The church was 
small enough, and could not have seated more than a 
hundred persons at its best, but the good rector loved 
it for all that. 

After breakfast we went out, and passed through 
the curious old streets of the town, on our way to 
Eaton Hall, the seat of the Marquis of Westminster. 
These streels are remarkable for having each four side- 
walks, two on a level with the street, as usual, and two 
more, one story up, above the first row of shops. 1 It 

1 ' These rows/ says Mr. Pennant, ' appear to me to have 
been the same as the ancient vestibules, and to have been a 
form of building preserved from the time that the city was 
possessed by the Romans. They were the places where the 
dependents waited for the coming out of their patrons. The 
shops beneath the rows were magazines for the various neces- 
saries of the owners of the houses.' But as the streets have 
been excavated from the solid rock, and sunk several feet be- 
low the surface, it is possible that these double sidewalks may 
have been thus originated. 

Chester contained five hundred houses in the time of Edward 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 39 

is curious to see four streams of foot passengers pass- 
ing along at the same time, above and below. Passing 
through the town, we went out by the castle, till we 
reached the bridge over the Dee, and crossing it, came 
directly to the stone gate-way, by which we entered 
the park of Eaton Hall. The front of this entrance 
was adorned with shields, carved in the stone, contain- 
ing the armorial bearings of the marquis. 

It was a beautiful day again, and the soft misty air, 
through which the July sun shot its warm rays, gave a 
rich tint to the abundant foliage of the laurel, oak, and 
elms which grew on either side our path. On we 
walked, mile after mile, along this noble avenue. It 
is nearly four miles from the porter's lodge to the 
house, and all this was contained in the park of the 
marquis. Occasionally stopping to sketch the trees 
and shrubbery, or to look at the deer which, in hun- 
dreds, were standing under the trees ; or turning aside 
to see the swans in the little ponds, we at last reached 
the hall. It is a large modern building, with a gothic 
front, elaborately carved at a great expense. Work- 
men were at this time engaged in making extensive 
alterations, and the interior was not to be seen by 
strangers. But we had seen the park, and the groups 
of elms in the front of the house, equal in grandeur 
and stateliness to our finest American elms ; and so 
we walked back again to Chester. On our return to 
Chester, we went over the old castle, which contains 

the Confessor, and at the Norman conquest its commerce was 
considerable. But its principal exports, we are sorry to say, 
were horses and slaves, for our Saxon ancestors carried on the 
slave trade with much activity. 



40 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

an arsenal of thirty thousand stand of arms. Part of 
the wall was, they said, built by Julius Csesar; but, if 
we believe all that we hear of Julius Caesar's walls 
and towers, we must conclude him to have been one 
of the greatest architects of antiquity. Chester was, 
no doubt, a Roman station, as its name implies. 1 
Every town in England ending in Chester, as Roches- 
ter, Winchester, Dorchester, &c, was originally a 
Roman camp, (castra.) But whether any work of the 
Romans remains, except in the walls, is problematical. 

We saw one more fine old church, in Chester, that 
of St. John. This church has circular arches, sup- 
ported by heavy round pillars ; and the verger said 
it was Saxon, and built in the year 900. 2 This, how- 
ever, was a mistake. It is a Norman church, built in 
the eleventh century ; but is, nevertheless, one of the 
oldest churches in England. Its tower stands at one 
end, and is separated from the building itself. There 
are some fine ruins behind the church. After seeing 
all these things, we returned to Liverpool and passed 
Sunday there. 

On Monday morning H. and myself sailed in a 
small steamer, along the northern coast of Wales, and 
through the Menai Straits to Caernavon. The sea was 
rough, and the passage not agreeable, with the excep- 

1 The form in which the buildings are arranged, is that of a 
Roman camp. There are four principal streets running from 
the centre to the four points of the compass, each formerly ter- 
minated by a gate. 

2 It is said to have been founded by King Ethelred in 689. 
It was a collegiate church, and was used as a cathedral in 
1075, by the first Norman bishop who resided in Chester. 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 41 

tion of a fine view of the great Orme's head, a frowning 
rocky headland on the coast. We passed under the 
Menai Bridge, which my companion thus described. 
4 At a distance it seems a humbug, when you are un- 
der it a wonder, when you have passed it, it becomes a 
humbug again.' We passed also the Britannia Tubular 
Bridge, one tube of which was about to be lifted to its 
place. We reached Caernavon just at night, and stop- 
ped at the Uxbridge Arms Hotel, which is a good inn. 
Before dark we had a fine view from the top of the 
hill behind the hotel ; and walked around the great 
castle of gray stone, which, in the darkness, loomed 
up vast and terrible. 1 Tuesday morning, July 31st, 
we spent two hours before breakfast in wandering 
over every part of this great castle. It was built by- 
Edward I. when he conquered Wales, in order to 
overawe the Welsh; and here, in a small square room, 
with stone floor and ceiling, a large fireplace, and 
small window in the stone wall, Edward II. was born, 

1 Caernavon was the ancient Segontium of the Romans, and 
was a Roman station in the time of Constantine. The remains 
of a Roman road are still visible in the neighborhood. The 
Britons held it after the Romans. It is mentioned as a con- 
siderable place in 1138, and was the seat of the British princes 
as far back as 750. The castle is the most magnificent fortress 
in North Wales. It was commenced by Edward I., in 1282, 
and finished in a year. It encloses three acres. The towers 
are pentagonal, hexagonal, and octagonal. The eagle tower, 
in which Edward II. was born, is especially beautiful, being 
crowned with three small turrets. Its walls are ten feet thick, 
and those of the rest of the fortress eight. There are openings 
in the galleries all around, for the discharge of arrows at be- 
siegers. 



42 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

April 25th, 1284. The lofty walls of the castle, 
broken here and there with loftier towers, surround an 
interior court which contains about three acres. Cor- 
ridors and passages run along the whole circuit of the 
walls : and though the wooden floors and ceilings of 
the larger rooms are gone, there still remain a multi- 
tude of small guard-chambers and ante-rooms wholly 
of stone. These walls are covered, in a great degree, 
with ivy, that universal beautifier of English ruins. 
Its rich foliage of dark green hangs like a curtain 
along these old bastions. This castle is very credit- 
able to its Norman architects ; its stone work has 
stood for five centuries, and may stand for as many 
more, a monument of the middle ages, and their 
feudalism. Passing along one of those corridors, 
which had echoed with the mailed feet of steel-clad 
knights, and where, by the narrow slits in the wall, the 
archers had stood, I came upon a child's playthings. 
Some little boy had left his wagon, and heap of 
stones, where he had been playing last. The con- 
trast between the amusements of innocent childhood, 
and these vast remains of a fierce age, was touching. 
So nature renews itself evermore, and flowers and little 
children enjoy their innocent life upon the ruins of out- 
worn institutions. 

My companion and I had agreed to ride this day 
through a part of North Wales to Conway, and there 
take the rail, which runs along the northern coast to 
Liverpool. So we took a post-chaise, driver, and horse, 
ten miles to Llanberris. This post-chaise was like 
one of our cabs, without a top, having two seats oppo- 
site to each other on the sides, and a door behind. It 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 43 

is a pleasant way of riding, with a single companion, 
when the weather is good, as you have a fine view in 
every direction. The morning was misty with an oc- 
casional shower ; but at noon the weather cleared up 
and became very fine. Posting, though pleasant, is 
rather expensive. You first pay the landlord a shilling 
a mile for his car, then the driver threepence a mile, 
and, beside that, you pay the tolls. We first took a 
car from Caernavon by the Pass of Llanberris to 
Capelcarig ten miles, from thence another car to 
Llanwrst, eleven miles ; then to Conway, twelve miles. 
The first part of the journey was very wild, among 
hills bare of trees and purple with heather, where the 
blue Welsh slate was cropping out, and over which 
dark mists were gathering, dispersing, stealing up, or 
drifting down, in those unaccountable movements, 
which mists are always practising on the sides of 
mountains. When we reached the Lake of Llanberris, 
the scenery grew more and more wild. We saw the 
side of Snowden, the top hidden, as ever, in its per- 
petual mists ; we saw several ruined castles on the 
distant hill-sides, and places where the vast overhang- 
ing rocks might well have given a satisfactory pulpit 
to the Welsh bard, whose incantation scattered wild 
dismay into the crested ranks of Edward : — 

' As down the sleep of Snowden's shaggy side, 
He wound, with toilsome march, his long array.' 

After leaving the lake, near which stood Brimbrass 
Castle, a large pile of ruins, we entered the Pass of 
Llanberris, where the host of Edward might have been 
excused for feeling; some dismay, if threatened with an 



44 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

attack from the mountaineers. All here was precipi- 
tous and wild. Surmounting the pass, we began to 
descend into the valley ; and a wide view T opened 
before us, but still bare of woods or trees. After 
leaving Capelcarig, we entered a different region, 
where we found rich meadows, green woods, and every 
evidence of a highly cultivated country. Between 
Capelcarig and Llanwrst, we stopped to look at the 
Swallow Fall, a fine piece of tumbling water, rushing 
and leaping beneath the overhanging trees, down a 
succession of cataracts. Along the road grew an 
abundance of flowers ; violets and harebells, honey- 
suckle, and foxglove. At Llanwrst we turned aside 
to visit Gwydir Castle, the seat of Lord Willoughby 
D'Eresby. It is,' however, no castle, in the common 
sense, but a small old-fashioned country-house with 
small windows, walls panneled with oak, and old- 
fashioned furniture. Here, as every where in Eng- 
land, you may visit the houses of the nobility, during 
their absence, and see their grounds by paying a 
shilling or two to the house-keeper and the gardener. 
This is some compensation to the people for their sub- 
servience to the aristocracy. If the nobility monopolize 
land, offices, and honors, they are not so exclusive as 
we sometimes imagine. These show houses do, in 
some sense, belong to the people, as much as to their 
nominal owners ; the only use that can be made of 
them is to look at them, and the people can look at 
them whenever they please. 

As we approached Conway, we saw it at a distance, 
surrounded by a wall, from which at intervals rose 
round towers. It is the only city in England which is 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 45 

wholly within its walls. The chief object of interest 
here is the castle, which, like that at Caernavon, was 
built by Edward I. It differs from that in being 
better fitted for a royal residence, not so much so for 
military defence. 1 The towers at Caernavon are an- 
gular ; these are round. The ruins of the state apart- 
ments are more highly carved, and decorated. Lovely, 
in the evening sun, were these interior courts, noble 
archways, and carved windows. Here the great Ed- 
ward and his gentle queen once kept their court ; and 
as we sat on the towers, or climbed along the broken 
passages, we could easily bring back those days of 
feudal glory. As we looked down into the interior 
court, our dream was dissipated ; ladies with green 
parasols, and gallants in white gloves, were looking 
with admiring eyes at the curiosities of the place. 
Old gentlemen in gaiters and spectacles, forcibly re- 
minding one of Mr. Pickwick, were poking their noses 
into every corner. All things assured us, that we 
were no longer in the days of fighting, but in those of 
trading ; when 

' The Duke of Norfolk trades in malt, 

The Douglass in red herrings ; 
And noble name, and towers, and land, 
Are powerless to the notes of hand 
Of Rothschild and the Barings.' 

1 In this castle eight vast towers, crowned with turrets, are 
still standing. In one of these is the remains of an oriel 
window, richly carved, where the toilet of queen Eleanor is 
said to have stood. The length of the great banquetting hall 
is one hundred and thirty-nine feet, and six arches of the roof 
remain. Edward I. passed a Christmas here with his Queen 
Eleanor. 



46 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

Reaching Liverpool that night, 1 was invited by the 
Rev. Mr. Bishop, the minister at large in Liverpool, to 
join a party who were to make an excursion, the next 
day, to the Lakes of Cumberland. This excursion was 
got up by the members of the Roscoe Club ; a society 
consisting principally of the young men of Liverpool, 
engaged in commerce, and who unite together for 
mutual instruction and recreation. We left Liverpool 
by rail at about 9 o'clock, and reached Bowness, on 
Lake Windermere, in about three hours. At Bowness 
we took a little steamer, and sailed to Ambleside at the 
other extremity. I walked from Ambleside to Rydal, 
and saw Wordsworth's house. Understanding that he 
was not at home, and following the example of other 
sight-seers, who seemed to make themselves quite at 
home in his premises, I also walked into his little 
domain, and stood on the terrace before his house, 
where he has so often stood to look over Lake Win- 
dermere and at the stormy summit of Loughrigg. 
Then I climbed Knabscar behind his house, whence a 
very fine view of the lake scenery is to be obtained. 
It was tough work for a hot day, but amply repaid me. 
There lay Windermere, stretching far away to the 
south, and Ambleside between, its stone cottages em- 
bosomed in foliage, its white road running between 
green hedges to the foot of the hill ; and away in the 
distance rose a great mountain form, which much at- 
tracted me, but which, I found by the map afterward, 
must have been Helvellyn, only four or five miles 
off. Though I did not know that Helvellyn was in the 
neighborhood, and had supposed it to be a Scotch 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 47 

mountain, I was repeating to myself constantly, while 
on Knabscar, Scott's lines, — 

1 1 climbed the dark brow of the mighty Helvellyn, 
Lakes and mountains beneath me gleamed misty and wide.' 

The scenery, no doubt, suggested the lines, for I was 
surrounded by mountains, and beneath me lay Rydal 
Water, Grasmere and other lakes. But the main 
thought in my mind was, that Wordsworth had looked 
upon this scenery day by day ; that here his mind had 
been fed and strengthened; that this hill, that lake, 
had been his muse ; every thing around me bore the 
coloring of the poet's mind. This was the Nature 
which he had interpreted and idealized. There was a 
glory upon these hills, not known to sea or land else- 
where, but borrowed from the poet's dream. The 
landscape was made alive by the power of thought : 
pervaded throughout with soul, humanized and elevated 
by the wonderful magic of the imagination. I very 
much enjoyed the breezy top of the mountain, bare of 
every thing but grass and heather. I saw a brook 
in the distance, tumbling and careering down along 
its side ; so I went to it and offered myself as its com- 
panion, clambering down a very rocky steep till I 
reached my little brook. It was 

1 Gurgling in foamy water-break, 
Loitering in glassy pool — ' 

and perhaps w T as the identical brook which did so in 
Wordsworth's poem. I accompanied the brawler down 
into the woods, though he led me by wet ways, and 
finally treacherously lost me in a wilderness of under- 
wood. It was getting dark, and, as I have a faculty of 



48 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

losing myself where no one else would, I was becom- 
ing somewhat bewildered ; but at last I reached a path 
and followed it. It led me into a park, laid out with 
care, and, amid noble trees, to a ravine in which was a 
water-fall ; and then it turned out that I was near the 
house of Lady Le Fleming, Wordsworth's neighbor, 
and the owner of Rydal. I went out of her gate, and 
pursued my way to lovely Ambleside, the sweetest of 
villages. I passed along a hard white road between 
green hedges or gray stone walls, lichen-covered, over 
which hung laurel and woodbines. All was neat and 
kept in perfect order, no branch or twig suffered to 
stray, more than a curl on a lady's cheek. The 
houses and cottages were all of gray or blue stone, and 
covered, in whole or part, with ivy. The fences and 
gates the perfection of neatness, and all the foliage 
rich ; the fields all deep green, the grass smooth as a 
carpet ; and the whole of this fair village was framed 
by a panorama of mountains, and intersected by wind- 
ing brooks. 

When I reached my little inn, I found a party of 
gentlemen and ladies taking tea in the coffee-room. 
Presently one of the ladies spoke of Elihu Burritt; and 
another made a remark concerning Ralph Waldo Em- 
erson. This attracted my attention, which, one of the 
ladies afterward told me, was her precise purpose, she 
having suspected me of being an American. Presently 
I found myself engaged in very pleasant conversation 
with this party, who proyed to be from Manchester, 
and the family of Mr. B., member of Parliament for 
that place. We talked about America and England, 
Mr. Emerson, and Emanuel Swedenborg, the Peace 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 49 

Congress, the poet Wordsworth, and the doctrine of 
the Trinity. On the latter topic we could not well 
agree ; they being Swedenborgians, and I a Unitarian, 
I quarrelled with Swedenborg's doctrine of the Lord, 
on the ground that he seemed to me, while maintain- 
ing the divinity of Christ, to lose his humanity, de- 
claring that the soul of Christ was God himself. This, 
I thought, made the humanity a mere name ; for a 
human body without a human soul, is surely not a 
human being ; and it nullified those Scriptures, in 
which Jesus asserts his dependence on the Father. 
They found my criticisms unsatisfactory, and our dis- 
cussion, warm but very kindly, was protracted to a 
late hour. After the fatigues of the day, I slept 
soundly in my neat room and comfortable English 
bed, with its nice linen sheets, elastic mattrass, and 
white drapery around. 

Next morning I arose at five to walk to Grasmere 
to breakfast. I walked by a private path through the 
fields to Rydal. This foot-path went through gates 
and over stiles, through fair meadows, where swains 
were mowing the grass diamonded with morning dew ; 
by beautiful country-seats, buried deep in shrubbery, 
all lovely in the sunny morning. Millions of harebells 
opened their blue eyes, or rather hung their bells, to 
welcome the day ; and the wild honeysuckle, in the 
hedges, filled the air with fragrance. So I passed on 
to Rydal. There I again turned from the road into 
another foot-path which skirted Rydal Water, and at 
last I came in view of the village of Grasmere lying 
beyond its lake. Here I was seized with the mad de- 
sire of getting across the little River Rothay, by which 
4 



50 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

Grasmere debouches into Rydal. It was swollen by 
the rain, and so, as I stepped from slippery rock to 
rock, my pole, plucked from the hedge, snapped, and 
I tumbled in. My hat flew from my head immediately, 
dipped itself half full of water, and was just going to 
the bottom when I caught it. There I stood, with the 
water about my waist, taking my morning bath in a 
very unexpected manner. Emptying a quart of water 
from my hat, I scrambled up the bank, walked a mile 
and a half to the village of Grasmere, and, ordering 
breakfast, sat by the kitchen fire to see it. cooked while 
I dried my clothes. The cook was a rosy English lass, 
and I advised her to go to America ; but she knew 
better and said, ' It is too far ; I might set out,' said 
she, ' but I am afraid I should never get there.' This 
cook was almost the only person whom I saw among 
the working classes in Europe, who was not thinking 
more or less seriously of moving to America. America 
is an ideal world to the peasantry of Europe. It sup- 
plies them with hope ; and even to those who never go 
there it is a blessing, in giving them a hope of im- 
proving their condition. It is the El Dorado, the land 
of golden plenty, where every man can have a home 
of his own, and leave his children comfortable when 
he dies. Let it be known any where in Europe that 
you are an American, and you are at once welcomed 
by the common people. Each one has something to 
say to you about America ; something to ask about 
friends living there ; about wages, price of land, and 
modes of living. 

Having dried myself by the kitchen fire, and suffer- 
ing no injury, but rather by this summary hydropathic 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 



51 



process curing a cold I had before caught, I took my 
breakfast, and then found a boy to row me in a skiff 
across Grasmere. I climbed some hills on the other 
side ; and descending into another valley to another 
lake, the Elter Water, I walked rapidly by a new 
road which passes near Loughrigg, a high hill, to Am- 
bleside. Reaching the inn I found, to my alarm, that 
the steamer had left for the cars which leave Bowness 
for Liverpool. But a gentleman, with two children, 
riding by at that moment, invited me to get in and 
carried me to Bowness, where, to my great pleasure, 
I met with two American friends on their way from 
Scotland to London. To realize the pleasure of meet- 
ing a friend, be by yourself for a day or two, in a 
foreign country, and then meet him unexpectedly. 
The sober English at the station must have been not a 
little surprised at our enthusiastic greeting. 

Being pretty well tired with my morning walk, I 
chose to indulge myself with a ride in the first-class 
cars to Liverpool. On the English railroads the first- 
class cars are much more comfortable than ours ; the 
second class much worse. The second class, in which 
almost every body rides, have often no cushions to the 
seats, and only the hard board to sit on or lean against. 
The first class is like a nobleman's travelling carriage, 
and contains seats for six persons only, each seat being 
stuffed and cushioned all around you, and of the amplest 
dimensions, like a large easy chair. There is no rattle 
to the windows, and the floor is deadened and thickly 
carpeted to exclude noise. For a tired man, a sick 
person, or a family, the comfort and seclusion of these 
cars are delightful. It would be well to have one 



52 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

or two of them attached to each of our trains in 
America. 

I had now been a week in England, and had seen 
Liverpool, Chester, part of North Wales, and some of 
the pleasant lake scenery of Cumberland. The next 
morning I left Liverpool at six, by way of Birmingham 
and Coventry, for London. The counties we passed 
through were filled with manufactories ; so, instead of 
stone cottages lichened and ivy-covered, and soft fields 
of grass and grain, we had rows of brick houses in 
view as we passed, and tall brick chimneys, spouting 
out columns of smoke and pestilential vapors. I made 
no stop in Birmingham ; but from Coventry left the 
main railroad and went by another rail to Warwick. 
Here I spent an hour or two in looking at the castle, 
which is one of the wonders of England. It is one of 
the oldest of the baronial castles, and while most of the 
rest have gone to ruin, this is in perfect preservation, 
and is inhabited by the present earl. You enter 
through a gateway and porter's lodge, in one room of 
which you are shown some old armor, and a vast 
two-handed sword, said to have belonged to Guy of 
Warwick. Then you pass on through an avenue cut 
down through the solid rock eight or ten feet deep, to 
the outer court. Here you pass through another gate- 
way into the inner court, which may contain an acre. 
The castle surrounds this inner court, and consists of 
massive towers connected by walls in which run cor- 
ridors, and here and there rooms of a very considerable 
size. State apartments, which are shown to visitors, 
extend three hundred and thirty-three feet in length 
on the ground floor. The doors which lead from one 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 53 

room into another are placed opposite to each other, 
and when open you can look through this whole dis- 
tance. You first are shown the great banqueting hall, 
some thirty feet in height with ceiling of oak, and floor 
of marble laid in squares. There is a cedar room, the 
walls being wholly panelled with cedar ; a gilded room 
with carved and gilded panelling ; Queen Anne's bed- 
chamber, the bed and room remaining as when she 
occupied it. But the pictures were what chiefly at- 
tracted my attention. There were twenty or thirty 
paintings by Vandyke, among which were two por- 
traits of the Earl of StrafFord, and one or two of 
Charles I. and his family, of his Queen Henrietta and 
his young children. One of these pictures, repre- 
senting Charles I. on horseback, is placed at the end 
of a corridor, and when you see it, the king on his 
noble white horse seems to be riding into the entry. 
There was one Titian, one noble picture by Rem- 
brandt, one Guido, and several by Rubens. There 
were two portraits by Holbein, of Henry VIII. , as a 
boy and a man, and it was curious to trace the like- 
ness between the two. You could see the plump rosy 
cheeks of the boy in the heavy, hanging swollen face 
of the hard king. There was also, by the same artist, 
the sweet Anne Boleyn, and the sweet Mary Boleyn, 
and some coarser beauties by Lely. But to me, the 
Vandykes were the charm of the collection, and the 
more that I afterward saw of Vandyke, the more I 
came to enjoy his pictures. All his portraits have the 
expression of noble humanity, by which even a com- 
mon face is made beautiful, and an ineffable charm 
fixed on the features of genius or heroism. But the 



54 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

pleasure of seeing these pictures was joined with the 
misery of having only a minute and a half allowed to 
each ; for the housekeeper, with her bunch of keys 
and rustling silk dress, was inexorable, and would not 
permit me to delay. I tried to soften her hard heart 
by telling her that I was from America, and had never 
seen such fine pictures before. ' Yes,' she answered, 
1 1 knew you were from America ; we have a great 
many Americans here.' She, like all other guides 
and sight-showers, could not understand why one per- 
son should want more time than another in looking at 
any thing, or why, when your eye had rested a moment 
on a picture and you had been told its name, you should 
wish to linger upon it any longer. I believe, however, 
that I persuaded her, by much coaxing, to grant me 
about double the usual time. I saw the great War- 
wick Vase, a magnificent affair of one piece of marble 
weighing many tons, and walked around the small 
park in which were many noble beeches and cedars 
of Lebanon. The walls in these places are usually 
covered with laurel, which grows in dense masses of 
shining leaves, shutting in the view. The beeches 
sweep the ground with their long low branches. After 
looking at an old church in the town of Warwick, and 
walking to the Leamington station, I went from there 
in fifteen minutes to Kenilworth. From Ken il worth 
village I rode a mile, in the sunny afternoon, through 
sweet plains hedged in and overhung with richest 
green, winding on to the gateway of the wonderful 
ruin of Kenilworth Castle. Seven acres, they say, 
were enclosed within the wall. The castle was built 
of red sandstone, and even the gateway is a building 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 55 

as large as many a castle of the common sort. This 
gateway remains uninjured, and is a square building, 
with towers at each corner and battlements between. 
The remains of the castle consist of one great square 
tower, the keep, old as the Saxon heptarchy, the walls 
of which are some twelve feet thick. From this 
stretched the kitchens, an extensive pile of ruins, to 
a square solid tower which still remains entire. Then 
come the immense state apartments, of which only the 
walls are standing, and these much broken ; but still 
you see the noble gothic windows with the remains of 
stone tracery, the vast fireplaces, and the deep re- 
cesses in the walls, carved and ornamented, making 
smaller apartments. Beside this there remain other 
towers, one of which is the great pile of building 
erected by Robert Dudley in the time of Elizabeth. 
There is still preserved a fireplace of marble with his 
arms and initials carved upon it, the upper part of 
carved oak, with the initials of Queen Elizabeth. I 
spent an hour or two very pleasantly among these 
ruins, where the green ivy contrasts well with the red 
sandstone, and then returned to Coventry to pass the 
night. Next morning after looking about Coventry, 
and exploring one or two old churches there, and 
seeing the image of ' Peeping Tom,' which looks 
from the corner of a house into the market, I left, at 
seven, for London, where I arrived in four hours. 
Here I drove to the excellent boarding-house of Mrs. 
Chapman, 142 Strand, which I found to be a very 
central and convenient location. Omnibuses run past 
the door to all parts of the city ; you are close to 
Waterloo Bridge, where you can take the little steamers 






M: 



CHAPTER III 



LONDON*. 



There are two methods of sight-seeing, either of 
which a traveller may adopt. He may hire a guide, 
or buy a guide-book, and go to see every thing which 
other people go to see. If his object is to say, when 
he goes home, that he has seen this and that curiosity, 
this method is to be preferred. The other plan is to 
select that class of objects which is especially inter- 
ig to himself, and to see these as thoroughly as 
possible. If his object is personal improvement and 
the acquisition of real knowledge, this method is un- 
doubtedly the superior one. London is so monstrous 
a place, that one cannot even run through it in less 
than many weeks ; and if you have only one or two 
weeks to spend, it is absolutely necessary to select the 
objects of special interest, and devote your time to 
these exclusively. 

There are some objects, of course, which are interest- 
■ j even* one. Such are the Parks of London, those 
beautiful green lawns and pastures, where beneath the 
shade of fair groves, sheep browse and children play. 
Such also is the River Thames, with its bridges, and 
little steamers flitting to and fro, which thread their 
way along with the adroitness of a duck ; coming up 
to the piers to take passengers in and to put them out, 



58 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

touching and then off again in a moment. Such, also, 
are the swarming Streets of London, in the city, 
around the bank and post-office ; and the magnificent 
Shops of the West End, in Piccadilly, Bond Street, 
and Regent Street. Every one wishes to see West- 
minster Abbey, St. Paul's Cathedral, and the 
Tower. One of the great wonders of London is the 
British Museum, which no one should omit visiting. 
A very good w r ay of seeing London is, to ride on the 
top of the omnibuses, which carry you a vast distance 
for three pennies ; and no one should omit going up 
and down the river on the little steamers, which also 
will carry you a mile or two for three pence. 

As for myself, I had made up my mind that what 1 
wished to see in Europe was, in the first place, the 
Alps of Switzerland; secondly, Fine Paintings and 
picture galleries ; and, in the third place, the fine old 
Cathedrals. In England there are said to be almost 
as many fine pictures of the Italian, Spanish and 
Flemish schools, as there are in Italy or elsewhere. 1 
The great wealth of the English nobility and gentry 
enable them to purchase every fine picture which is 
offered for sale at any time in the continental markets. 
It is said that there are more Murillos in England than 
in Spain. The picture galleries of London are public 
or private. Of the public, the principal are the 
National Gallery, and Vernon Gallery in Trafalgar 
Square, Dulwich Museum, the Gallery at Hampton 
Court, and the British Institution. Of the private gal- 

1 This is more true of the Spanish and Flemish schools than 
of the Italian. Frescoes cannot be bought, even by English 
gold. 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 59 

leries, the more important for old pictures are the 
Bridgewater Gallery, the Sunderland Gallery, those of 
the Duke of Wellington, Sir Robert Peel, Lord Ash- 
burton, and Mr. Rogers. 

The first night that I passed in London, I heard every 
time that I awoke a rushing sound, which I at first 
thought was the river ; it sounds like the Falls of 
Niagara, as heard from the hotel on the American 
side. This was the noise of the streets, the steady 
flow of carriages along the streets around you ; it rises 
and falls, swells and sinks, but never ceases day nor 
night. 

On Sunday morning I went to hear Dr. Hutton, the 
Unitarian, who preaches in a small chapel near St. 
Paul's Cathedral. In the afternoon I attended the 
service in Westminster Abbey. It is a glorious place ; 
the building preaches more powerfully than the pulpit. 
I listened to the chants, but was looking up, meantime, 
along the endless lines of columns and arches, up and 
higher up, to the lofty vaults above, and, seeing the 
immensity, felt that man does not live by bread alone. 
The unnecessary amount of space, the quantity of 
moulding and carving, the working of the stone into 
minute details, even high up where it can hardly be 
seen, makes these great works of art to resemble the 
exuberance of Nature, who never counts her leaves 
and flowers. The profuse and lavish beauty of detail 
is carried to its height in some parts of this structure, 
especially in the Chapel of Henry VII., which is 
behind the choir. In strong contrast to this beauty, — 
an inheritance from the Middle Ages, — are the marble 
monuments which fill the Nave and Transepts. These 



60 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

have the true prosaic English stamp. The most elabo- 
rate are those erected in honor of soldiers and states- 
men, and consist of gentlemen in wigs and breeches, 
and ladies in loosely flowing robes, weeping over 
funeral urns. If the monument is for a general, then 
cannon and cannon-balls carved in marble are pro- 
fusely scattered around ; if for an admiral, then the 
masts of ships are seen behind ; and if for a statesman, 
rolls of parchment indicate a civil functionary. At 
least five out of six of the monuments erected in these 
great metropolitan temples of Westminster and St. 
Paul's, are in honor of soldiers, and are profusely deco- 
rated with the emblems of war ; as though the lesson 
taught in these Christian churches was not, 'Blessed 
are the peace-makers, for theirs is the kingdom of 
God,' — but 'Blessed are the warriors, for theirs shall 
be all worldly fame and honor.' The only redeeming 
point in the matter is the extreme ugliness of these 
monuments, which neutralizes any influence which 
they might otherwise exert in behalf of war. 

The churches of London are mostly modern, the 
best of them having been built by Sir Christopher 
Wren. This great architect was a man of genius, but 
was unfortunate in coming at a period when architec- 
ture was at its lowest state. His great work is St. 
Paul's Cathedral, and this, from its vast size and bold 
design, is very imposing. 

For the first week, I spent a large part of my time 
in the National Gallery, and feasted on the noble paint- 
ings which it contains. Some of them 1 seemed to 
know already by means of the engravings. This was 
especially the cause with the Claudes and the Poussins. 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 61 

But the Murillos and the Rembrandts far exceeded any 
anticipation I had formed beforehand. A large part of 
the beauty of Murillo is his exquisite harmony of color, 
and the brilliant effects of his lights and shadows. 
While Rafaelle occupies the lofty summit of Ideal art, 
Murillo is throned on the neighboring peak of the Real. 
The beauty of Rafaelle's paintings lies chiefly in the 
profound spiritual expression which they contain ; his 
fairest forms have a beauty of heaven and not of earth. 
But Murillo gives us the beauty of Nature ; not of 
common-place nature, but of purified nature. His 
Madonnas express the purest human affections, while 
Rafaelle's beam with a divine love. If love to God be 
higher than love to man, then Rafaelle is the greatest 
of painters; but if love to man be only the opposite 
manifestation of the same sentiment, then is Murillo 
nearly on the same level. If God is in Nature, if its 
forms are divine thoughts, then the faithful painter 
of Nature leads us to God, no less than he who paints 
the love of God in the soul. 

The charm of Rembrandt's paintings is quite pecu- 
liar, and almost indescribable. Certainly no engrav- 
ing I have ever seen does him any justice. There is 
a depth in his pictures which cannot be represented by 
the engraver's instruments. You do not look at his 
pictures, but into them. They are full of imagina- 
tion ; are of imagination all compact. The paintings 
of other artists may be studied in detail, these affect 
you as a whole. 

It is not necessary to be a connoisseur, in order to 
distinguish the- styles of the great painters. After 
studying the pictures in a few galleries, almost any 



62 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

one can distinguish a Claude or Cuyp, a Poussin or 
Murillo, a Rubens or Vandyke. 1 We come to see that 
an artist is not great, because he copies external na- 
ture with accuracy, but because he uses the forms of 
nature as a language in which to utter the inspirations 
of his own genius. You recognise, therefore, in each 
of his pictures, his peculiar tone of thought and feel, 
ing. This is even the case in the portrait or the land- 
scape. When Titian or Vandyke paint a statesman, 
they express in their portrait their idea of true states- 
manship. The portrait is not merely a likeness of the 
man ; it is this and something more. It is the key to 
his history ; it is the explanation of his life. We read 
in its expression the habit of profound reflection, the 
concentrated energy of will, the calm survey of broad 
and complicated interests, which have marked his 
course. These portraits, therefore, possess a lasting 
value. They are studies of human nature. The gaze 
of their eyes searches your heart ; you feel drawn to 
them by a strong attraction as to those long known ; 
you even feel ennobled, and lifted into a higher region, 
where truly great aims are to be found ; where vulgar 
life and unessential cares are forgotten. 2 

1 Of course I do not mean that any can learn so soon to dis- 
tinguish an original from a good copy or imitation, or the 
work of the master from that of his best scholars. But one 
catches the tone of feeling and thought of each great master, 
and recognises them again, just as you tell the style of Mozart, 
or that of Beethoven, after having learnt to love these com- 
posers. 

21 see before me now the calm, high features of a portrait by 
Titian, at Hampton Court. Its heroic dignity, and expression 
full of mysterious meaning, fascinated me so that I disliked 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 63 

So, also, the landscapes of the great painters are 
not merely careful copies of external scenery. Their 
woods and streams, and drifting clouds, and blue dis- 
tances, all interpret a mood of the mind ; they are 
instinct, with sentiment ; they are pervaded with human 
thought, and human affection. In the landscapes of 
Claude, the lights from his skies penetrate all his ob- 
jects ; the woods and meadows overflow with skylight ; 
stately palaces and halls, which stand in the midst of 
his paradise-like scenery, are made for the homes of a 
higher order of beings. It is a world of heavenly 
peace, into which he introduces us. But in Gaspar 
Poussin, it is the Earth itself, with its infinite variety, 
which is shown to us in a thousand graceful forms ; 
mossy rocks, tumbling water, sunny slopes, all the 
luxury of foliage, all the various outline of hill and 
valley, low-lying plains, and breezy summits, and the 
fantastic shapes of drifting clouds, give animation and 
cheerful life to the scene. In Claude, all tends to 
unity ; in Poussin, to variety. The horizon-line in 
Claude is usually low ; he gives more sky than earth, 
and one central light domineers through his picture. 
Poussin's horizon-line is high, giving more of earth, 
and less of sky ; and his lights are broken and various. 1 

to leave it, and still returned to it again, as though I could 
read its secret by another interview. 

1 I have read with great care and without prejudice Mr. 
Ruskin's sharp and sweeping censure of Claude and Poussin, 
and his eloquent praises of the modern English painters. I 
do not feel competent to answer his charges against the former, 
and think it very possible that they may have been guilty of 
some of the inaccuracies alleged. But that these landscapes 



64 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

On Monday morning, August 6th, I commenced my 
serious work of picture-seeing, by going to Hampton 
Court. Hampton Court is fourteen miles from London. 
I found an omnibus going there from the White Horse 
Cellar ; a place, if I remember aright, where Mr. Pick- 
wick and his friends once rendezvoused when about to 
depart* upon one of their immortal excursions. Every 
place in London is associated in this way with re- 
miniscences, especially to one who has been a con- 
firmed novel-reader. How familiar are all these old 
names ! made classic by having been the haunts of 
famous English poets and essayists, or by being the 
scene of the great works of Fielding and Scott. I 
rode on the top of the omnibus, passing by endless 
lines of buildings, by rows on rows of shops, where it 
should seem that all the people in the world might buy 
their jewellery, watches, and silver. I passed by sweet 
gardens and noble palaces ; going through Kensington, 
Turnham Green, and famous Richmond, and passing 

are exquisite poems, is a faith which I shall hold firmly to my 
dying hour. They fascinated me in engravings when a child, 
exactly as I was fascinated by some of the songs of Burns and 
Byron, by the music of Mozart, and by the Hallelujah Chorus. 
A poem may be highly beautiful, and yet inaccurate in some 
of its language or images. Allan Cunningham's song, 'A wet 
Sheet and a flowing Sea' is most spirited, though open to some 
nautical criticism. A sailor might inquire why the sheet was 
wet : the sheet being a rope and not a sail — he might ask how 
if the wind was aft, ' a wind that follows fast,' they could 
leave ' Old England on the lee? ' &c. But such criticisms do 
not touch the peculiar merit of this sea song, which makes us 
feel the motion of the vessel, taste the salt spray, hear the 
breeze in the ropes, and see the white caps on the waves. 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 65 

by Pope's house at Twickenham, till at length we 
reached Bushy Park. Through this we drove on a 
straight and level avenue, a mile in length, with elm 
and oak trees on either side of us all the way. Then 
we reached the inn, near which* are the gates of the 
palace park and gardens, surmounted by lions. Pass- 
ing through the gardens, along paths darkened by thick 
shrubbery, we came into the Palace, which is an 
immense building enclosing a quadrangle, and stand- 
ing in the midst of a vast park. We passed here from 
room to room, filled with paintings, many by Titian, 
Vandyke, Correggio, Rembrandt, Murillo, dec. Here 
are kept the celebrated cartoons of Rafaelle, drawn 
on paper of very large dimensions, and copies from 
them in tapestry. Some of the rooms are very splen- 
did; they are lofty and spacious. There was one 
magnificent fireplace, the shelf supported by marble 
statues on either side. The rooms were wainscoted 
with oak and cedar, and some were gilded. This 
palace was first built by Cardinal Wolsey, but com- 
pleted in its present style by William and Mary, some- 
what in imitation of Louis XIV. 's great Palace of Ver- 
sailles. William and Mary resided here, and their 
bed-rooms remain as when they occupied them. His 
is hung with portraits of the beauties of his court, by 
Lely and Kneller. Mary's taste was better ; the paint- 
ings in her chamber are by Vandyke and Titian. The 
day was clear and warm, and the beautiful park looked 
lovely in the summer's sun. Being Monday, and some 
sort of a holiday, there were at least eight or nine 
thousand people, as one of the police officers told me, 
wandering through the palace gardens and park. No 
5 



66 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

English monarch has inhabited this palace for many 
years, and it is very properly open to the public. We 
arrived there at twelve, and spent three hours looking 
at the paintings, then an hour and a half in the Park, 
and returned by the south-western railroad. 

My first business, the next morning, was to procure 
my passport from the American Minister, Mr. Bancroft. 
An American visiting the Continent must procure a 
passport either from the Secretary of State at home, 
or from the American Minister in London or Paris. 
These are given gratis; but they must be 'vised' by 
the ministers or consuls of the countries through which 
he proposes to travel. By the advice of a friend I had 
my passport bound with blank leaves to receive the 
4 vises.' Mrs. Bancroft, whom I had known in Ame- 
rica, and whose friendly attentions are spoken of by 
every American who visited London during her resi- 
dence there, kindly offered to take me to the Galleries 
of the Earl of Ellesmere, and Mr. Samuel Rogers, 
with both of whom she was acquainted. The rest of 
the morning I spent at the National Gallery. 

And now, I wish it to be understood, when I speak 
of pictures, that I speak merely as one having a taste 
for art, but no pretence of knowledge. I wish to show 
that knowledge is not necessary in order to enjoy these 
fine pictures. All that is necessary is an open eye, 
and an open mind. Those of us who are ignorant of 
the school learning on these subjects, who do not know 
what men mean when they talk of 'breadth' and 
' chiaro-obscuro,' and the like, had better avoid such 
knowledge altogether. Here are great paintings, de- 
clared to stand at the summit of art by the judgment 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE 67 

of mankind. Let us have faith that this is so. Let 
us look at them expecting to see something beautiful, 
and we shall find it. They were not painted for con- 
noisseurs, but for mankind. Nevertheless, it is neces- 
sary, in order to receive a deep and pure impression 
and carry away something real, that we should take 
some pains and take some time. He who runs cannot 
read the meaning of any great work, either of Nature 
or of Art. 

I write not for connoisseurs, therefore, but for those 
ignorant as myself, and inexperienced as myself, and 
who, nevertheless, wish to see something of that 
element which makes the great artist the benefactor, 
not of critics, but of his race ; who wish to make the 
best use of such opportunities as they may have to 
study such works ; and for them I would give the 
following rules : — 

First. Have faith. Believe that what the testimony 
of mankind, through many centuries, declares to be 
great, is really great, though you cannot at first dis- 
cover its grandeur or beauty. Humility, modesty, 
faith, hope and love are as essential in the study of 
art, as in the study of nature or revelation. That 
which pleases immediately is not apt to give deep or 
permanent satisfaction. But that beauty which slowly 
dawns upon the mind, like that truth which seems at 
first paradoxical or unnatural, is oftenest that which 
lifts us out of ourselves into a higher world than we 
before knew. 

Secondly. Do not try to see many things, but to see 
a few things well. If you carry away a distinct idea, 
a living impression of a few great paintings, you have 



68 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

reason to be both satisfied and grateful. More than 
this you can hardly hope to do ; and if you attempt 
more, you will carry away nothing but names, and 
a superficial knowledge of mere particulars. 

Thirdly. One gains much insight into the peculiar 
genius of the great artists by comparing their styles 
together, as shown in similar works. You thus go 
beneath the work and enter into the mind of its maker. 
You see how faithful to his own genius each one is, 
how the same mode of treatment recurs continually ; 
and you feel as if you had been admitted to an intimacy 
with the artist when in the very act of creation. 

Titian, they say, can only be seen in Venice, yet I 
am thankful for what I saw of his pictures in these 
British Galleries, and in the Louvre. We hear of him 
as the great Colorist. We hear less often of the 
dramatic faculty which fills his scenes with the most 
active life, of the deep feeling of nature, which per- 
vades with dreamy light the shady recesses of his 
groves, and produces atmospheric tones of such tender 
beauty. What fresh life from the early world is in 
the attitude of the boy Adonis, starting from his couch 
at break of day, holding his spear in one hand and 
grasping his dog's neck with the other ! Or, in the 
animated Bacchus, leaping from his chariot at the sight 
of Ariadne, all life and motion. What gentle womanly 
beauty in his ' Nymphs around Diana ; ' or in his 
1 Venus rising from the Sea,' pressing the water from 
her long locks ; or the Venus turning, suddenly 
aroused, to detain her boy lover from the chase. And 
what a halo of light surrounds his sleeping figures ; 
the warm tints of the flesh, cooled by the green re- 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 69 

flection from over-hanging trees, and all melted in the 
swimming light from sky or water. In these pictures 
of Titian, every thing is in motion, or about to move. 
His sleepers seem just about to wake ; those who stand, 
just about to go ; those who sit, just rising. 

Guido, again, how different is he ! There are two 
fine paintings of his in the inner room of the National 
Gallery, and one in Dulwich Museum, the finest of all 
there. His are paintings which please every one, and 
please at once ; and yet they continue to please always, 
though possibly not so much as those flowing from a 
deeper nature. Their beauty is sunny, like that of 
flowers. The figures of Guido have the charm of 
radiance ; full of life, vital throughout, and full of the 
consciousness of life, they shine forth toward you, and 
do not, like Murillo, draw you toward themselves by 
self-absorbed, passionate earnestness. I remember of 
Guido's pictures, especially a youthful David and an 
Herodias, in the British Institution ; the David in quick 
movement, the Herodias light, beaming, and graceful, 
both full of happiness ; of such happiness as nature 
gives to youth. And, again, a youthful St. John the 
Baptist at Dulwich. Not the stern Baptist -of the New 
Testament. He is a Guido's John, with fair, out- 
stretched, youthful arm ; not emaciate with fasting, 
but rounded like that of an Antinous. Tangled locks 
hang around his face, enclosing his gentle eyes in their 
shadow. 

How like, yet how very different, are the paintings 
of Murillo. They have not that beauty of radiance. 
Their thought and feeling is too deep to be expressed. 
Beside his fine pictures in the National Gallery and 



70 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

Dulwich Museum, I remember a Cleopatra in which 
the coloring was very wonderful. There was a depth 
of darkness around her; self absorbed, and full of 
passionate earnestness. She attracts you with myste- 
rious charm. 

I never knew what a full length portrait was, till I 
saw those in the Bridgewater Gallery and Dulwich 
Museum, by Sir Joshua Reynolds and Gainesborough. 
Some of these female figures, like the portrait of Mrs. 
Siddons seated, or those of Mrs. Sheridan and Mrs. 
Moody standing in the open air, (both at Dulwich) had 
not perhaps the nobleness of Vandyke, but are so full 
of grace and nature, in attitude and movement, that 
they seem like a bit of real life, seized in a happy 
hour. 

The building which contains the fine collection of 
paintings, purchased at a great expense by the British 
Nation, is in Trafalgar Square, and is considered a 
very poor piece of architecture. The paintings are in 
three large rooms, and two side-rooms. The inner 
room contains many treasures. A sweet St. Catharine 
by Rafaelle, and a serious looking Pope, with red cape 
and white drap'ery, by the same master ; two Guidos, 
three Titians, two Murillos, and two exquisite Cor- 
reggios, to say nothing of three fine Claudes, a fine 
Gaspar, and a large painting by Sebastian del Piombo, 
which Dr. Waagen thinks the finest painting in Eng- 
land, and one of the finest in the world. The paintings 
by Guido, are Lot and his Daughters, and Susannah 
and the Elders. The first is a picture full of power 
and finely grouped, the other is a beautiful front view 
of Susannah, who is sitting ; the color pure white, the 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 71 

outlines soft, and the face expressing her trouble of 
mind. 

Ganymede carried up by the Eagle, by Titian, the 
tone of which is rich, but soft and subdued ; and another 
Titian, are both beautiful. The subject of the last is 
Venus detaining Adonis from the chase. His attitude 
as he moves away is most animated. She has turned 
suddenly around and caught him ; he, thus checked, 
looks at her with bright face as though he said, ' Let 
me go now, I will be back soon.' The third Titian is 
a famous picture, of which there are several copies. 
It is Bacchus leaping from his chariot at the sight of 
Ariadne. Like the last it is full of animation, and in 
the highest brilliancy and harmony of color. The 
paintings by Murillo in this room are : first, a large 
' Holy Family.' Little Jesus is in the middle standing 
on a high stone, and Mother Mary kneeling on the left 
holding his hand, and looking up with a deep human 
mother's look of love and awe. The boy holds his 
mother's finger with his right hand, and his left lies 
open in the open palm of Joseph. Joseph looks at the 
spectator, which is the only fault I notice in the design 
of the picture. The other painting is St. John and the 
Lamb, which has been so often copied that I need say 
nothing of it. The picture by Sebastian del Piombo, 
is remarkable, because it is believed that the design is 
by Michael Angelo. Michael Angelo, who could not 
paint well in oils, and who wished to paint something 
superior to Rafaelle, obtained the aid of Piombo, one 
of the great Venetian colorists, in executing his designs. 
The figure of Christ in this painting, is full of dignity, 
force and animation. 



72 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

But, to my mind, the gem of this room and of the 
gallery, is the large Correggio. The subject, Venus 
and Mercury teaching Cupid. I know not with what 
words to describe the exquisite beauty of this picture. 
There is a loveliness resulting from the contours, the 
grouping, the coloring, the soft lights and shadows, 
which places this picture in the highest style of art. 
We must admit that the thought, the conception, want 
the depth of Rafaelle, but the liquid and flowing out- 
lines, and rich soft color, dazzle and charm. Correggio 
is the most tender of artists. His pictures constitute 
the luxury of art. 

The middle room in the gallery contains four large 
paintings by Rubens ; a ' Judgment of Paris,' a ' Rape 
of the Sabines,' ' Moses and the Serpents,' and a 
mythological piece of obscure meaning. In these 
pictures of Rubens, you see his power as a colorist, 
and his knowledge of the human figure. But there is 
a coarseness of form and face, which almost amounts 
to vulgarity ; there is an absence of any high meaning ; 
and while we admire the exuberance of this great 
master's invention, we are left dissatisfied with the 
meagreness of his aims. It was not till I went to 
Belgium, and saw his great pictures at Antwerp, that 
I discovered that mighty dramatic power, which is his 
distinguishing excellence. Rubens must have a great 
subject, and a large canvass to crowd with figures, 
before he can manifest that immense productive energy 
and vital power, by which his pictures, destitute of deep 
thought and feeling, nevertheless remain among the 
wonders of the world. 

On Wednesday morning, Mrs. Bancroft took me to 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 73 

see the Bridgewater Gallery, belonging to the Earl of 
Ellesmere. Though these paintings were distributed 
through the rooms and chambers of the Earl's house, 
in Belgrave Square, he allowed strangers to visit them. 
He has since finished a splendid palace, which is one 
of the finest houses in London. In this new house 
there is a picture gallery devoted expressly to these 
paintings, with a separate entrance for the public. 
The Bridgewater Gallery contains some of the most 
celebrated pictures in the world. In the front room 
on the lower floor, were the ' Seven Sacraments,' by 
Nicholas Poussin ; seven large paintings in the highest 
style of elegant art. I use the word ' elegant ' ad- 
visedly, for N. Poussin is eminently the painter of 
elegance. His landscapes do not show us wild, fresh 
and joyful nature like those of Gaspar, nor dark and 
savage nature like those of Salvator, nor nature 
spiritualized like those of Claude, but nature made 
elegant by stately taste. His landscapes are parks 
and gardens ; his trees and flowers are educated trees 
and flowers, and his figures, serene and noble, add a 
human dignity to the scene. N. Poussin is the head 
of the French school, and has embalmed in his pictures 
the courtly life of France in the age of Louis XIV. 
In them we see idealized the features of that stately 
court, and are forced once more to admit, that in every 
human tendency, there is something excellent. In that 
artificial life, with all its formality and etiquette, there 
was something true. Stately manners and elegance 
in all the arrangements of human life, are objects not 
unworthy of human thought, and this we find in the 
works of Nicholas Poussin. 



74 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

The i Three Ages of Man,' by Titian, and a picture 
of ' Christ and the Doctors,' by Spagnoletto. The 
child is holding up his finger with a pure high look ; 
the heads of the old men are also fine. This subject, 
if well treated, is always interesting. It gives us one 
of the fine contrasts of life, that of the spirit and the 
letter. We love to mark how the fresh enthusiasm of 
youth outsoars the reach of pedantic learning ; and 
how things hidden from the wise and prudent are 
revealed unto babes. 

In the second room, over the fireplace, was a large 
painting by Titian, of Calisto brought before Diana. 
In this painting, the figures of the goddess and her 
nymphs show that animated life of which I spoke 
before, as being one of the excellencies of Titian. 
Every thing in the picture is either in motion or about 
to move ; meantime, all the bright carnations of the 
flesh are mellowed by the green light from the over- 
hanging trees. So that in this picture, also of Titian, 
I find the two chief points of merit to be animated 
movement of design, and rich harmonies of coloring. 

There are two fine paintings, numbered 26 and 29, 
by Ludovico Caracci. One is the dream of St. Catha- 
rine, the other the marriage of St. Catharine. In the 
last, Catharine is leaning her cheek against the foot of 
the infant Jesus, which she holds in her hand. In this 
room was also hanging the famous portrait of Shak- 
speare, called the ' Chandos portrait,' painted in his life- 
time by Burbage, the actor, and supposed to be the 
most authentic portrait extant. It was bought by the 
Earl of Ellesmere, for three hundred and fifty-five 
guineas. The portrait is not a fine one, but enables 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 75 

us to assure ourselves that the great intellect of Shak- 
speare had a worthy residence in a noble head. The 
three finest heads of which we have portraits, in full- 
ness of development, are those of Homer, Shakspeare, 
and Goethe. Next to these, if not equal to them, are 
those of Plato and Napoleon. Passing by a grand sea 
view by Vandervelde, in which the waves tumble more 
magnificently than do those of Turner, and a sweet 
infant St. John, lying asleep, with his limbs spread all 
abroad, child-fashion, we must notice an entombment 
of Christ by Tintoretto. In this there are two groups, 
which are connected by the dead Christ, which is being 
borne toward that in front. The Virgin has fainted, 
and two women are bending over her. The colors are 
rich. 

But we must pass over a multitude of admirable 
paintings, by the two Caraccis, Rembrandt, Claude, 
Titian, Domenichino, Ruysdael, Gerard Douw, Mieris, 
Cuyp, and Wouvermans, and come to the three 
Rafaelles, which are the glory of the gallery. Each 
of them is of inestimable value. They are pictures, 
which once seen are never forgotten. They linger in 
the memory like the parting look of a dear friend. 
They enable us to imagine a higher style of thought 
and feeling- than belongs to this common world. 
Faces so penetrated with spiritual expression, help us 
to a conception of the spiritual body which saints shall 
wear hereafter. These features overflow with the 
purest feelings of the soul, they adequately express 
that which is most within us. Like the highest poetry, 
they are utterances of an inspiration which unveils, for 
a moment, a higher region. 



76 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

These three paintings have been often engraved. 
One of them which represents the mother and her 
child in the open air, and the boy John stooping to 
kiss Jesus, while Joseph, who is behind, looks over his 
shoulder, is one of the pictures bought by the Duke 
of Bridgewater, at the sale of the Orleans Gallery. 
Another is called the ' Bridgewater Madonna,' in which 
the child is lying at length in his mother's lap. In the 
third, Joseph, on his left knee, his staff in his right 
hand, is offering flowers in his left hand to the little 
Jesus, who sits on Mary's knee, with both hands grasp- 
ing into the flowers, yet looking not at them but 
inquiringly into Joseph's face. Mary has her scarf 
wound about his body, and looks over his head at 
Joseph, watching apparently the effect which the child 
produces upon him. One of these Rafaelles goes by 
the name of ' La plus belle Vierge de Rafaelle ; ' and 
the other is ' La plus belle des Vierges.' 

I must mention two other pictures in this gallery. 
One is a Magdalen, by Elizabeth Sirani. She is look- 
ing at the Bible under her left elbow, a skull rests on 
her knee, and her sweet, rich, sunny locks of auburn 
are brought forward on each side her neck, and pressed 
against her breast with her left hand. The other pic- 
ture is a full length portrait of a lady, by Sir Joshua 
Reynolds. These full lengths by Sir Joshua Reynolds 
have none of the stiffness usual in such portraits. 
They are full of dignity and grace. The lights and 
shades, and the colors of the drapery, are so well 
managed, that you are attracted to the animated face, 
and to those movements of the limbs, which are ex- 
pressive of the impulse. A full length, poorly painted, 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 77 

is nothing but an immense piece of canvass, but these 
are vital throughout. 

From the Earl of Ellesmere's, Mrs. Bancroft took me 
to the house of Mr. Samuel Rogers, the poet, the banker, 
and the collector of curiosities. He has a small house, 
finely situated in St. James's Street, the garden 
behind opening upon Green Park. From his back 
windows you look into the Park, and over it to Buck- 
ingham Palace and Gardens. You see the trees wave, 
and the grazing sheep, and can scarcely believe your- 
self in the heart of London. This Park, though con- 
taining fifty-six acres, is one of the smallest of the 
parks of London. Beside the paintings, the house of 
Mr. Rogers is filled with rare curiosities. He has a 
little pencil drawing by Rafaelle, for which he gave 
five hundred guineas ; he has, framed, the identical 
contract between Milton and his publisher, for the sale 
of Paradise Lost ; he has a piece of furniture which 
was made for him by Chantry, the sculptor, when 
Chantry first came to London, and carved mahogany. 

Many persons have heard of the breakfast-table of 
Mr. Samuel Rogers, where, during the last fifty years, 
have been seated so many distinguished men of all 
nations. Fond of society, and most agreeable him- 
self in conversation, he has been for years the centre 
of one of the pleasantest circles in London. He seems 
to have been attracted toward every man distin- 
guished either by force of intelligence, or force of 
character ; and his tastes are so various, that there is 
room at his small breakfast table for the greatest di- 
versity of guests, from the Duke of Wellington to the 
last young poet, whose timid volume has been just 



78 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

launched into the sea of literature by Murray or Pick- 
ering. Mr. Rogers, who seems fond of Americans, 
was especially fond of Mrs. Bancroft; and so I re- 
ceived, by her means, an invitation to his breakfast 
table. On Wednesday, August 9th, I found myself at 
10, A. M., seated at that classic board with four other 
guests. Mr. Rogers I found a charming old man of 
eighty- seven years, and except a little deafness, as 
active in body and mind as ever. He talked on all 
subjects, changing from grave to gay. He spoke of 
art and society, of time and eternity, but mostly he 
talked of poetry, and read and recited many things. 
He quoted lines from Halleck, and then calling for the 
work, he read the poem beginning, ' Green be the turf 
above thee,' and said ' No man living can write such 
verses now.' He recited, with much feeling, passages 
from Gray, and from Milton's Paradise Lost. He 
thought that Milton had put an argument in the 
mouth of Adam, complaining of his punishment, which 
he had not answered. ' There's no answering that,' 
said he, 'there's no answering that, except, indeed,' 
he added, l we admit that all punishment is corrective.' 
He liked Gray's letters better than his poetry, and 
thought good prose usually better than his poetry. He 
spoke of life, and compared it to a river, hastening to 
its fall. At the end it hurries us along, so that we 
cannot notice what we are passing. ' How well,' said 
he, ' I remember what I saw in my youth, when I 
went to the opera at Milan, in the evening, and said 
" to-morrow I shall be sailing on Lake Como," 
' Sixty years ago, I dined with the Duke of Rochefou- 
cault and twelve others ; in one year, nine of them 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 79 

had died by the guillotine, or by some violent death. 
Lafayette I saw every day.' He said it was one evil 
attending success in life, that it is apt to separate us 
from our families. Said he, ' Sir Thomas Lawrence 
told me, " The day I got my medal, I put it on and went 
down stairs, but not one of my brothers asked me 
what it was. I went up to my room, and cried. If I 
speak of any distinguished person, they say, you told 
us that before." ' The conversation fell upon Curran. 
Mr. Rogers said he was accustomed to use the most 
extravagant language. ' I was walking with him in 
London, and he said, " I had rather be hung on ten 
gibbets." A girl passing by said, " Would not one be 
enough ? " ' In this pleasant talk the hours flew by, 
and it was one o'clock before we knew it. But when 
the ladies rose to go, he asked me if I had seen the 
pictures in the British Institution, and said to Lord G. 
■ Let us go there.' After walking through the rooms, 
and pointing out to me some of his favorite pictures, 
he asked me, if I was not engaged elsewhere, to 
breakfast with him again the next morning, to which 
I gladly consented. 

The British Institution is in Pall Mall, and is an 
annual exhibition of paintings, lent for that purpose 
by their owners. In the collection this year there 
were some very fine ones. 

In learning how to study paintings, I found it often 
useful to compare together two pictures on similar 
subjects, by different artists. By noticing the differ- 
ences in their mode of treatment, I was enabled to de- 
tect the peculiar style of each. Thus, to-day, I com- 
pared landscapes by Claude, and Gaspar Poussin, and 



80 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

noticed how the predominance of sky in Claude, gave 
unity and spirituality to his picture. The sky illumi- 
nates his figures, and fills his trees with light, and 
they lean and bend toward the sun. In Poussin, the 
horizon is at least a third higher; the land nearly fills 
the picture, and a hill in the middle, with its green 
slopes, and scattered trees, and groups of two or three 
persons on the ground, all impress you with the rich 
life of nature. 

There were two large and fine paintings by Turner 
in this collection, one in his earliest style. The sun — 
seen in mid-sky a mass of white light — was reflected 
in the river winding below. In this picture there was 
a sort of double plot ; a transaction in the heavens, 
and one on the earth. 

The next day, after breakfasting with Mr. Rogers, 
I rode to Dulwich,~to look at the gallery of paintings 
in that place. I rode on the top of an omnibus, across 
London Bridge, through Southwark and Camberwell, 
about six miles to Dulwich. I remember that I began 
the day with a depressed feeling, which was probably 
aggravated by a showery morning ; but the weather pre- 
sently cleared up, and the beautiful scenery through 
which we passed, and afterward the exquisite pictures, 
made me very cheerful again. England looks bright 
and dark alternately; like her capricious sky, which 
threatens rain, bursts in sunshine, sets in with a sudden 
shower, and presently smiles again in most heavenly 
blue. For the English weather is always changing — 
not like ours in the United States, in great extremes of 
■ heat and cold, but from clear to cloudy. Yet the 
abundance of moisture in the air gives, I think, a most 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 81 

picturesque effect to all objects. All things have a 
silvery or pearly gray tint. Sharp outlines melt away. 
You see the atmosphere itself, like a liquid ocean, 
rolling between you and the object, and not as a trans- 
parent medium. 

In going to Dulwich, I passed the famous old inn of 
' The Elephant and Castle,' in the borough. It stands 
where several great roads meet and part, and was for- 
merly the place where many stages stopped, and now 
is the stand for many omnibus lines. When a child, 
poring over an old map of London, I saw this inn, and 
now was surprised to find what an insignificant affair 
it was ; being only a small two-story brick house. But 
so you are very apt to be deceived in the sights of 
London, which have been made famous, not because 
they were remarkable in themselves, but as the scene 
of remarkable events, and as visited by remarkable 
persons. 

The last three miles to Dulwich is through lovely 
suburban scenery. The road winds smoothly between 
high gray walls, overhung with ivy, and stained with 
lichen, or between well-trimmed hedges and long ave- 
nues of trees. Presently we came to an inn with odd 
gables and overhanging balconies, and men smoking 
or drinking as Teniers loved to draw them. Villas, 
inns, and cottages, are all embosomed in this abound- 
ing foliage. 

The gallery at Dulwich contains many excellent 
pictures, and no bad ones. It consists of a suite of 
four rooms. The masterpiece, perhaps, is a St. Se- 
bastian, by Guido, painted much in the manner of 
Murillo's joyful pictures. It represents a fine young 



82 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

manly form, tied to a tree to be shot with arrows. 
The arms are tied behind, the body is straining for- 
ward, and the head turned up. An arrow is in the 
side — 'hceret lateri lethalis arundo.' As you enter 
the door, you see it at the end of the suite of rooms, 
The sun shone upon it when I came in, and it seemed, 
in its glorious beauty, to be springing from the canvass 
into the room. A Venus asleep, by Titian, is the 
perfection of that perfect thing, the human form. 
The lovely serenity of the mouth and eyelids, the 
graceful outline, the rich depth of color, which yet is 
by no means warm, (as Rubens would have painted it) 
but pure, make it a charming thing. She lies asleep ; 
her right arm bent back under her head, her face 
turned toward you, and the limbs in an easy and natural 
attitude, the flesh color relieved by the rich draperies 
and cushions. 

In fine contrast with this picture, are two beggar- 
boys and a flower-girl, by Murillo. Like all his pic- 
tures, these figures look after you. They are not to 
be looked at merely, but they look at you in turn. 
The flower-girl is not on the canvass but seen through 
it, a fresh, live girl. The face is full of a single feel- 
ing ; eyes, mouth, and hands all ask, ' Will you have 
my flowers ? ' The beggar-boys are just such as we 
have seen in the street ; one has his mouth stuffed full 
of bread, and both are running over with drollery and 
fun. 

Two remarkable pictures are two full-length por- 
traits by Gainsborough ; one of Mrs. Moody and her 
children ; the other, of Mrs. Sheridan and her sister. 
These portraits are as fine as those of Sir Joshua. 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 83 

They have a tone of cool, greenish-white color. The 
figures of both are in the open air. Mrs. M. holds 
one child on her right arm, leading the other with her 
left hand, and steps forward, her head bending to the 
right. The children, meanwhile, are looking forward 
at something on the left. The great skill of the artist, 
in these portraits, appears in the expression of the 
faces and attitudes of the figures, which are all so 
perfectly natural that they are like a bit of real life, 
seized in a happy moment. 

This gallery has some good Cuyps. It is not easy 
to mistake Cuyp. Almost always he has a strong 
yellow sky-light, coming from one side, and falling 
fully over the foreground on the other. He has 
always cows and water ; his pictures are rich in color, 
and his shadows not solid, but interfused with light 
contained within them. His horizon line is usually 
rather low, giving much sky-scape. 

There are here three landscapes by Teniers. One 
contains a shepherd in the middle, leaning on his staff, 
with sheep in front. All have natural and careless 
attitudes. The sheep are moving forward toward you, 
suggesting some purpose, and so making the picture 
picturesque. In each of the other paintings, there are 
one or two figures, and a blue, cloudy sky, with light 
openings here and there, and multitudinous shadows. 

' Jacob's Dream,' by Rembrandt is a famous painting, 
which, when seen and studied, leaves you profoundly 
impressed with the poetic power of this artist. It is a 
solemn, dark picture. All is dark, except the bright 
light from the sky, where the angels appear, and the 
half-lighted spot below, where Jacob lies. As you 



84 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

look fixedly at it, the faint outline of the hills come out 
through the gloomy air, and the rays of light, down 
which the angels are passing, are half perceptible 
across the darkness. Jacob is lying below, his arm 
thrown carelessly back over his head, and the white- 
winged angel figures descend toward him solemnly 
from above. 

Notice a Samson and Delilah by Rubens. A 
splendid Samson ; for the strong man could paint 
well strong things, as giants, lions, and elephants. 
Samson lies, lion-colored, tawny, asleep on the. knee 
of Delilah, who, like many of Rubens' women, is 
coarse and vulgar. 

A splendid horse by Vandyke. This noble artist 
sympathizes with the high spirit of the animal. The 
horse is stately, and stepping proudly out. Had Ru- 
bens painted him, he would have been struggling 
fiercely in some violent endeavor. 

I remember also a portrait of Wouvermans by 
Rembrandt. A grave, fixed, serious expression, kindly 
and pure, as of one apprehending his thought. He 
has a look not soon to be forgotten, and a studious 
brow. He surely was a patient and faithful worker. 

After looking at the fine masterpieces in this and 
the other galleries, I found some ideas had been fixed 
in my mind by this study. I became well satisfied 
that the object of painting was not to represent nature. 
It is not a merely imitative art. A daguerreotype, 
which gives us a faithful copy of outward nature, is 
not a work of art. The great artists do not give us 
nature, but give us themselves; their own highest 
thoughts, and deepest feelings. That part of the 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 85 

human soul which cannot express itself in exact propo- 
sitions, ' wrecks itself on expression,' by means of 
poetry, music, painting, sculpture, and architecture. 
As Beethoven in his symphonies does not reproduce 
the sounds of outward nature, but, by means of his 
melodies and harmonies, expresses his own profound 
ideas of the beautiful and true, — as Erwin, in piling 
the Strasburg Minster to the skies, expressed in its 
multitudinous forms, and its lofty unity, the ascent of 
the thousand joys of earth toward the one God, — so 
the great painter expresses by his figures, and his 
colors, his own deepest idea of the universe and the 
soul. One evidence of this is the diversity of style 
among great artists. If their object was merely to 
copy nature with accuracy, the more successful they 
were, the more would their paintings resemble one 
another. But the very opposite is the case. Pictures 
of poor artists look very much alike, but each great 
master has his own style, which we soon become 
familiar with. We distinguish Rafaelle from Titian, 
as easily as Milton from Byron ; and the difference in 
both cases lies in the matter, no less than in the man- 
ner ; in the conception, no less than in the execution. 
Even in a landscape, by a true artist, there is more of 
human thought and human affection than of external 
nature. Even in a portrait, there is more of the artist 
than of his subject. 

But while I thus consider the thought, the idea of a 
picture to be its chief element, I do not exclude truth 
of outward nature. A great painting includes both ; it 
is a synthesis of the idea, given by the artist's creative 
mind, and the forms furnished by the outward world. 



86 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

These forms are his words, his metaphors, his symbols, 
in short, his language. And as that poet alone is truly- 
great, who combines poetic thought and poetic lan- 
guage, who has something worth expressing, and 
expression worthy of his thought — so that painter 
alone is great, who has profound conceptions of truth 
and beauty, and has so faithfully studied the forms of 
nature, that he has thus obtained a vast storehouse of 
language, a great vocabulary of expression. 

Again it came to me in the study of the great mas- 
ters, that their greatness showed itself chiefly in bringing 
a great variety into a perfect unity. The greater the 
variety in a painting, provided it be fully harmonized, 
the greater is the genius of the artist. Those painters 
are truly wonderful, in whose works you find the sharp- 
est contrasts of lines and colors, the greatest variety of 
faces, figures, passion, and action, provided that these 
are subdued by one controlling idea. The cardinal 
sins of a painting are these two — want of variety, or 
want of unity. In the first case there may be harmony, 
but it is monotonous ; and, therefore, is not really har- 
mony. In the second case there may be variety, but 
there being no unity, the contrasts are glaring and 
offensive, and the result is discordance. Therefore, 
one painter aiming at harmony, but without genius, 
gives us monotones ; another painter aiming at variety, 
but without genius, gives us discords. Genius alone 
gives us variety in unity and unity in variety, harmony 
without monotony, contrasts without discords. 

And hence we see wherein consists the inspiration 
of the poet and the artist. He is an inspired artist, 
who sees the unveiled face of Truth and Beauty so 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 87 

distinctly, who can enter so livingly into his idea, as to 
polarize by it all the forms, and to make all contribute 
to the one expression. If the idea fades in his mind 
while his work is in progress, a failure is the result. 
Therefore the greatest works are done, as it were, in a 
moment. The preparation may have been long in 
making, the materials slow in being collected, but the 
creative idea, when it comes, makes quick work. 
Hence Rafaelle, who lived but thirty-seven years, was 
able to finish hundreds of paintings, each of them a 
masterpiece ; and this is the explanation of the ex- 
uberance of genius. Its years may be few, but its life 
is long. 

I saw, while in London, many modern paintings of 
the English school ; but as I saw many more on my 
second visit to London, 1 will postpone all mention of 
them till then. 

■ On Wednesday, August 14th, I set out for Paris to 
the Peace Convention, by the way of Southampton. 
Taking the southwestern rail, I went that afternoon to 
Salisbury. My object, in visiting this place, was to 
go to Stonehenge, which is nine miles from Salisbury, 
and to see the famous Minster, which is the finest work, 
perhaps, of the early English architecture. It is con- 
sidered the type of that style, from being less mixed 
than any other building of the same importance. It 
was commenced in 1220, and finished in 1258. It has 
therefore, in a high degree, the element of unity, of 
which we have just spoken as a fundamental requisite 
in works of art. A cathedral, finished in thirty-eight 
years, is like a picture painted in a few days. Most of 
the great cathedrals were being built during several 



88 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

centuries, and consequently the idea of the original 
architect is usually lost ; different styles are blended 
together, and the building wants unity. Not so with 
Salisbury Cathedral. This appears like a single ma- 
jestic growth, which sprang up at once. It is of gray 
stone, has double transepts, a fine western front, with 
two high towers, and a majestic spire more than four 
hundred feet high, rising from the centre. The situa- 
tion of the building adds much to its charm. Instead 
of standing in the middle of the city, crowded by poor 
dwellings and surrounded by pavements, it stands in a 
large enclosure, containing several acres of soft, green 
grass, surrounded by avenues of lofty trees. There is 
no remarkable beauty in the interior of the building, 
but the chapter-house and cloisters are very lovely. 
They were built between 1250 and 1260, and are 
examples of the early English style in its latest form, 
when it approached very closely to the decorated style. 
Already we see in the arches of the cloisters that tra- 
cery in stone, which afterwards became so highly orna- 
mental in the window-heads. The cloisters enclose a 
soft, green lawn, and the chapter-house is a large cir- 
cular room ; the ceiling of stone upheld by a single 
column rising lightly in the centre, and from the top of 
which fan-like arches spring in all directions to the 
circumference. The floor is paved with old painted 
tiles, said to have been brought from the former cathe- 
dral, which stood at Old Sarum, and which was pulled 
down when the new city and cathedral were built at 
Salisbury. The ascent of the spire from the tower in 
the interior, is by ten long ladders, one above the other. 
When you reach the top of these, you are near a little 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 89 

window thirty feet from the top of the spire. This is 
as far as strangers usually go ; but the man who oils 
the rod on which the vane turns, is in the habit of 
reaching out of this window, till he takes hold of a 
leaden handle, sunk in the stone above it. He then 
swings himself out of the window, and by means of a 
series of these leaden handles ascends to the top of the 
spire. It happened however, fortunately for us, that 
workmen were repairing the stone work of the spire, 
and a little platform was suspended outside the window, 
upon which we could stand in safety, three hundred 
and seventy feet above the ground, and enjoy a fine 
view of the city of Salisbury, the distant country, the 
cathedral and its grounds, with the bishop's house and 
garden directly below us. The spire is of stone to the 
top. It is supported by a square tower, which rests 
upon four immense pillars at the intersection of the 
nave, choir, and transepts. After the tower and spire 
had been carried up a short distance, one of these 
pillars began to settle with the superincumbent pressure. 
Stone arches were thrown across to support it, from 
one pillar to another, and, for greater security, the 
thickness of the stones used in the spire was diminished 
one half. But perhaps, in consequence of this, the 
spire has cracked down its side, and it moreover leans 
ten feet from the perpendicular. A physician from 
Philadelphia, whom we met in Salisbury, begun to 
ascend the tower with us, but when he came to this 
crack he stopped. The guide told him there was no 
danger, for the crack had been there five hundred 
years. ' No matter,' said he, c it may fall to-day;' so 
he turned and went down. My companion Mr. C. and 



90 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

I went in a carriage to Stonehenge. We rode over 
Salisbury Plain, which is a broad, open, rolling piece 
of country, as much like a Northern Illinois prairie as 
can be, except that the land is poor, and that there are 
no grouse upon it. It consists of one great stratum of 
chalk under a thin surface of soil. There are often no 
hedges or fences ; the sheep are packed away together 
in folds, surrounded by wattled fence, which can be put 
up and taken down again very easily. 

Riding over these high desolate plains, we gradually 
drew near to Stonehenge. We saw the stones at a 
great distance, rising alone in this desert, as though 
the life of modern England had left these remnants of 
a hoary past, respecting their ancient solitude. No 
one knows certainly when these great stones were 
placed here, or what was their object. They probably 
go back beyond the time of the Saxons, and beyond 
the time of the Roman Conquest, to the days of Pagan 
worship, and of the ancient Briton. The air blew cool 
around us as we sat among these relics of ancient 
days, — thinking of the procession of bearded Druids,* 
who once marched on the top of this great ston\? circle, 
and of the victims fastened to the central sacrificial 
stone. The air seemed to talk of the twenty centuries 

* It is quite possible, however, that this place may have had 
nothing to do with the Druids, but have been a Thingstead or 
Doomring for the administration of justice, according to the 
customs of the Scandinavian nations. See Mallet's Northern 
Antiquities, Bonn's edition, p. 108. Some of the largest up- 
right stones at Stonehenge are twenty -three feet long, with a 
stone tenon cut at top to fit into a mortice cut in the impostal 
stone. 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 91 

which had since drifted by ; — but just then, I looked up 
and saw a little sparrow chirping on the top of one of 
these im postal stones — the gay child of nature, born 
yesterday, making merry over these solemn ages. 
How often these contrasts struck me, when in Europe. 
At Caernavon Castle, the child's playthings lying as 
he left them just before in the old stone corridors ; at 
Heidelberg Castle, the playing girls, and the young 
flowers in the courts of the vast ruins — and here the 
sparrow on the dark remains of forgotten nations. 
These contrasts are expressed, how well, by Goethe, 
in his poem on the Traveller in Italy, finding a peasant 
woman with her cottage and infant among the remains 
of a Greek temple. 



CHAPTER IV. 



PARIS. 



On Wednesday, August 15th, I sailed in a little 
steamer from Southampton at seven in the evening. 
The night was clear, and the channel as well-behaved 
as it ever is ; for between England and France there 
is always trouble, in a physical no less than a moral 
sense. The heavy seas in the English Channel are 
probably occasioned by the meeting of currents from 
the Atlantic and the North Sea. Whatever the cause 
may be, one's equanimity is sometimes more dis- 
turbed by a passage from England to France than by 
crossing the Atlantic. However, on this occasion, we 
arrived at Havre at eight in the morning, in very com- 
fortable condition. The first thing to be done on landing 
was to get our passports ' vised,' and our trunks through 
the douane or custom-house. Here we took our first 
plunge into a foreign language, which is almost as 
appalling beforehand as the jump into a cold bath ; 
and I may add, that in both cases after the first shock, 
the difficulty is over. With a little conversational 
French, and by the help of the natural language of 
signs, one can find his way easily enough to what he 
wants. Our trunks were taken to the douane, and 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 93 

there locked up ; and we were told to come in an hour 
to get them. At the passport office we had our first 
experience of French politeness. The descriptions of 
our persons had been left blank in our passports. 
When the gentleman who examined them returned 
them to us, each man found himself described. The 
color of our hair and eyes, shape of nose, mouth, and 
chin, complexion, figure, and height, were all en- 
tered ; but none of us could remember that the gen- 
tleman had looked at either of us during the operation. 
In England or America, we should have been distinctly 
made aware of the whole process ; but in France no 
one stares. 

As there is nothing especially to be seen in Havre, 
which is a new town, my companion Mr. C, and my- 
self, after breakfasting at a small cafe, and getting our 
trunks from the douane, took the rail for Paris via 
Rouen. If we had more time, it would have been well 
to have visited Caen, the ancient capital of Normandy, 
which contains some fine churches of the time of 
William the Conqueror. As it was, we determined to 
pass a day in Rouen, the architectural remains of which 
are also very fine. We went to the railroad station 
(or debarcadere, as it is called in France,) and as there 
was a great crowding for tickets at the office, I asked 
Mr. C. to purchase both of ours. In his hurry, he got 
tickets to Paris instead of to Rouen. I crowded and 
pushed my way back to the ticket seller, and muttered 
all the French words I could find to make him under- 
stand the case ; but he either could not, or would not 
understand me, and said only ' Non, Non ; ' then I ap- 
pealed to a man who seemed to have some authority 



94 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE, v 

in the matter, being dressed in a military uniform, but 
he told me to go to Rouen, and keep the same ticket. 
Bat I was not quite satisfied that this would answer, so 
I inquired of still another, who brought me to a very 
gentlemanly person, also in military uniform, who 
directly informed me that our tickets would only an- 
swer to go to Paris with, that day, but said that he 
would arrange it for us. He therefore went with me 
immediately to the ticket-master, and told him to ex- 
change the tickets for Rouen tickets, and give back 
the extra money. The ticket- master seemed reluctant, 
and argued that there was some rule against it, but 
my protector silenced him by saying, ' But these are 
strangers, sir.' Whereupon French politeness imme- 
diately exchanged the tickets. 

Arriving at Rouen at two o'clock, we went to a hotel 
on the Seine, kept by a French lady who had married 
an Englishman, and who spoke English. I here com- 
menced a custom to which I steadily adhered while on 
the Continent, and of which I found the pleasure and 
comfort very great ; that, namely, of insisting upon 
having a front room in the hotel where I stopped, if 
only for a night, and of selecting a hotel fronting on a 
river, or some open space. A front room, in which the 
sun shines, is much more healthy as a sleeping-room, 
than those opening on the dark inner courts of the 
hotel. A friend, before I left America, quoted to me 
on this subject an Italian proverb, ' Where the sun 
does not visit, the physician does.' Then it adds very 
much to one's pleasure, to have a fine view from the 
room where you necessarily pass a good deal of time. 
Among my pleasant recollections are the views of the 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 95 

Seine, from my window at Rouen; of the Rhine, from 
my windows at Cologne, Coblentz and Bingen ; of the 
Maine, from the Mainlust at Frankfort; and especially 
of the Rhone, Lake Leman, and the high Alps from 
the Hotel de Bergues at Geneva. 

Having deposited our trunks in our room, Mr. C. 
and I sallied forth to view the town. We first went 
into a restaurant to get some dinner. ' All beginnings 
are difficult,' says Goethe, and so we found it, in our 
first attempt at dining in France. Our first mistake 
was in going at the wrong hour ; the dinner hour in 
France is late in the afternoon. At that hour you can 
get immediately whatever you want ; but if you go at 
three or four o'clock you have to wait, and they charge 
you more for their trouble. Among these French dishes 
it takes some time to find out what you want. On the 
present occasion, we prudently confined ourselves to 
hiftek — which stands every where in France for beef- 
steak — and ' porames de terre au naturel,' which 
means simply, boiled potatoes. We also tried a bottle 
of the ' vin ordinaire,' but 1 believe we left the largest 
part in the bottle, and thought that vinegar and water 
would be quite as good. After this experiment we 
sallied forth to find the famous Cathedral. Presently 
we met with a young man who informed us that he 
was a commissionaire, that is, a guide, and offered his 
services. We were incautious enough to accept them 
without making a bargain beforehand, of which we 
found the disadvantage by and by, although this com- 
missionairc was a gentleman, compared with the 
majority of those whom we afterward had dealings 
with. 



96 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 



Among the traveller's principal annoyances are these 
commissionaires, who swarm in every continental city. 
They insist upon going with you, whether you want 
them or not, and it is really quite an art to avoid them. 
They have a thousand tricks by which to persuade you 
to engage them, and if you do not make a strict bar- 
gain beforehand, and sometimes when you do, they 
will make you pay exorbitantly for their services. 
Usually by the aid of the guide-book and a map of the 
city, you can do better without them than with them. 
It is always pleasanter to find any thing out yourself, 
than to be shown to it. When you go about a city 
alone, every thing seems like a discovery. Also, the 
guide comes between you and the people, he tells you 
every thing which you otherwise would have to inquire 
about for yourself; and by making these inquiries you 
get acquainted with the people. Yet in order to save 
time, a guide is sometimes necessary. I usually agreed 
with them to pay them so much, to show me the way 
to such and such objects ; and they were to walk at a 
distance, and not speak except when I spoke to them. 
Except you insist on this last condition, the commis- 
sionaire is apt to keep up a perpetual chatter, running 
like a parrot through the descriptions, which he re- 
peats by rote. This must be prevented, at all hazards, 
if you wish to see any thing with your own eyes and 
mind. 

We thought that Chester, with its double sidewalks, 
and Salisbury with the little brooks running through all 
the streets, were sufficiently old-fashioned and odd, but 
Rouen beats them all. The houses are at least five or 
six stories high, and many of the streets not more than 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 97 

ten or twelve feet wide. Some of the houses are of 
stone, with images carved on their front. Others, as 
those of Corneille and Fontenelle, are of oak, minutely 
carved all over their fronts. We first went to the Cathe- 
dral, in front of which was a flower market, where 
women in the curious costume of Normandy were 
selling flowers. One of the towers of this Cathedral, 
called ' Tour de Buerre,' or Butter Tower, was built 
with the money obtained by the sale of licenses to eat 
butter in Lent. The central spire of the Cathedral 
now erecting, in place of one which was burnt, is made 
entirely of cast-iron. The separate pieces are taken 
up, put in their places and riveted. When we saw it, 
it was three hundred and sixty feet high, but was to be 
thirty feet higher. We went to the top of this spire in 
company with some priests in their long black dresses 
and shovel hats, such as Sterne met with in his Senti- 
mental Journey. We also tried to be sentimental, and 
talked the best French we could with our priests, who, 
in turn, gave us much information. From the top of 
the spire we looked over this compact city, with its 
narrow, crooked streets, its curious roofs, and houses 
each enclosing a square area or court. We looked 
down on the sweet gardens of the Bishop's Palace, on 
the windings of the Seine, and on the rich fields which 
surround the city. There was a great deal in this view 
which was curious, and much that was beautiful. The 
total weight of this iron spire, when finished, will be 
1,200,000 lbs. It consists of 2540 pieces, and 13,000 
iron pins. Its expense will be 1,000,000 francs. The 
Cathedral has many interesting historical associations. 
Hollo, first Duke of Normandy r was baptized in this 
7 



98 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

church in 912. It was enlarged by Richard I. of Eng- 
land, in the tenth century. Tt was dedicated 1063, but, 
as it now stands, it is the work of several centuries, 
from the thirteenth to the sixteenth. The Cathedral is 
four hundred and fifty feet long, one hundred feet wide, 
and the nave is seventy-five feet high. It has three 
large rose-windows, and twenty-five side chapels. The 
rose-window, which is a large circular window filled 
with tracery, is a great peculiarity of French pointed 
architecture. It makes a principal feature of the west- 
ern front of French churches, while in England it is 
comparatively rare. In the Rouen Cathedral are 
buried, Rollo of Normandy, who died 917 ; William 
Longue Epee, killed 944 ; the Duke of Bedford ; the 
heart of Charles V. ; and that of Casur de Lion. In 
1838, by digging in the place marked by an inscrip- 
tion, there was found a statue of Richard I. which was 
formerly on his tomb, carved of a single stone. The 
next day his heart was found in a box and under a 
stone, on which was this inscription in the letters of 
the time, ' Hie jacet cor Ricardi regis Anglorum.' 
There are also in this Cathedral the tombs of Peter de 
Breze, died in 1465, and Louis de Breze, died in 
1531 ; the latter erected by Diana of Poictiers, his 
widow. 

The Church of St. Ouen is as large and fine a build- 
ing as the Cathedral. The restorations of this building 
are very fine. We also visited one or two other 
churches, the Palais de Justice, the old Palace of the 
dukes of Normandy, and especially the Place de la 
Pucelle, where the great tragedy took place of the 
burning of Joan of Arc, in 1430. A statue of the 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 99 

heroic maiden now stands in the centre of this square, 
on the spot where the execution took place. I lingered 
long here, recalling the events in the life of this girl. 
She was but twenty years old when she died ; and, 
during her brief career, eclipsed by her genius the 
exploits of the greatest captains, while by the purity 
of her character, her deep sense of truth, and her pro- 
found religious enthusiasm, she threw a gleam of light 
across the darkness of that stormy age. Though un- 
educated, and leaving behind her no writing of her 
own, there is perhaps no personage whose words and 
deeds have been more minutely and accurately pre- 
served. For this she is mainly indebted to the malice 
of her enemies, who, not satisfied with destroying her 
life by cruel tortures, wished also to blast her reputa- 
tion, and so had her tried before an ecclesiastical court 
for sorcery and heresy. The records of this trial, and 
of that which was instituted twenty years after to re- 
verse its sentence, have been preserved in the archives 
of France. Witnesses appeared at both, who narrated 
her words and actions during her youth at Dom Remy, 
and during the two years of her public life. Her own 
answers on her repeated examinations before the court, 
are also preserved. Nothing can surpass the union of 
womanly sweetness, native sagacity, and lofty faith, 
which appear in these authentic narrations. Her sim- 
ple truth baffled the acuteness of her captious examiners. 
Her sincere religious faith overthrew their accusations 
of irreligion. The purity and nobleness of her past 
life furnished no foundation upon which to base an 
accusation ; only the most outrageous fraud and false- 
hood could furnish even the shadow of a reason for 



100 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

which to condemn her. But her condemnation had 
been determined beforehand ; and noble gentlemen in 
an age of chivalry, joined hands with reverend bishops 
in an age of faith, in fastening to the stake this pure 
woman and fair saint. 

The next morning we took the rail to Paris, and 
went first to Meurice's Hotel, Rue Rivoli, and then 
to a boarding-house close by. 1 Here we were but a 
few steps from the Tuilleries and the Louvre, a short 
way from the Palais Royal, and near most of the 
sights which one wishes most to see. The houses in 
Paris are arranged in a way which strikes an Ameri- 
can as quite peculiar. Half a dozen families usually 
occupy one building; each, perhaps, having all the 
rooms on one floor ; thus there are parlors above par- 
lors, kitchens above kitchens, chambers above cham- 
bers, all the way to the top of the house. You enter 
from the street by a large double door which stands 
open during the day, and at night is opened for you 
by the concierge. This person occupies a small room 
or rooms close to the street door; it is his business to 
open and shut it, to inform strangers where each mem- 
ber of the household is to be found, and whether they 
are in or out ; and with him are deposited letters, 
cards, or parcels for the families on either floor. To 
live in such a house would seem to an Englishman or 
an American very much like living in the street ; but 
to a Frenchman this is no objection. They are an 
out-door people ; expansive, self-communicating; they 

1 Madame Maffit, No. 3, Hue de la Convention, who speaks 
English, and where many Americans have found a pleasant 
home. 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 101 

have no concealments, no reserves. As you pass by 
the large shop windows, and look in, yon see not only 
Monsieur but Madame, and all the children, either in 
the front shop, or in the room behind. When you go 
into the Gardens of the Tuilleries or Luxembourg, you 
see father, mother and children, walking or romping 
together. This open life is very charming to a stran- 
ger ; it is a kind of hospitality, for it makes you feel 
at home every where. 1 

Yet the beauty of Paris is very great. The houses 
are large, and finely built. The houses in London 
are costly, but those in Paris are elegant. Paris is 
not made dingy with smoke, as is London ; the air is 
clear, not foggy, and the fine French taste shows itself 
every where, in great things and small. The palaces, 
gardens, picture galleries, and churches of Paris, are 
all interesting. In the very centre of the city, close 
to the Seine, is a cluster of magnificent objects hardly 
to be rivalled elsewhere. Beginning with the great 
Palace of the Louvre, you have a magnificent pile 
built around the four sides of a square, and each side 
four hundred feet in length. The colonnade of the 

1 But it does seem strange to an American, much more, 
doubtless, to an Englishman, to see rooms in the palaces of the 
aristocracy let to strangers. There is no street so aristocratic, 
nor any hotel so superb, as not to contain apartments which 
may be hired even by a passing traveller. As, therefore, the 
wealthiest persons do not necessarily occupy a house, but suites 
of apartments in a house, they take no pride in the outward 
aspect of the mansion. Display in Paris does not take the form, 
as with us, of costly or showy buildings ; nor is it necessary, 
in order to keep caste, to live in an aristocratic quarter, or in 
an elegant house. 



102 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

west front by Perrault is in the Corinthian order, and 
five hundred and twenty-five feet long. This is con- 
sidered one of the finest fronts in the world. This 
palace, which occupies the place where stood an enor- 
mous castle, the residence of Frankish kings from the 
earliest times, is entirely filled with the public mu- 
seums. These museums consist of sculpture, ancient 
and modern paintings and drawings, gems, armor, and 
a vast collection of other curiosities. They fill the three 
floors of the palace on the whole four sides. Beside 
this, there extends along the Seine the great Gallery of 
the Louvre, filled with the finest Italian and Flemish 
paintings, twelve hundred feet in length, and connect- 
ing the Palace of the Louvre with the Palace of the 
Tuilleries. This latter building is a collection of pavil- 
ion-shaped edifices, joined together by buildings of a 
different form. In front of the Tuilleries extend its 
gardens, which are of great size, filled with fountains, 
orange-trees, marble statues, beds of fragrant and many 
colored flowers, sheets of water, and terminating in 
walks shaded with fine trees, planted in the form of 
that Quincunx, so great a favorite with Sir Thomas 
Browne. Passing through these, you reach the great 
square, now named Place de la Concorde, where 
the guillotine stood in revolutionary times, and where 
Louis XVI. and Marie Antoinette were beheaded, and 
through which also Louis Philippe and his family 
passed when flying from his throne. Groups of statu- 
ary, bronze horses spouting water from their nostrils, 
occupy the four corners of this square. In the centre 
standsthe famous Egyptian granite obelisk, covered with 
inscriptions, ancient and modern. Looking in one direc- 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 



103 



tion from this square you see the Gardens of the Tuil- 
leries, through which you have passed, and the palace 
itself. On the left you see the beautiful Church of 
the Madeleine, built of white marble, with its Corinthian 
colonnade. Opposite to it, on the other side of the 
Seine, are seen several public buildings; one of which 
is the Hall of the Chamber of Deputies ; and turning 
around, with your back to the Tuilleries, you have 
before you the Champs Elysees, with their multitude 
of avenues, passing beneath shady trees. These ex- 
tend a mile, and terminate at the barrier de L'Etoile. 
Here stands the triumphal arch de L'Etoile, a hundred 
and fifty feet high, of solid granite, covered with 
colossal carvings and figures. This, though a mile 
from you, is so large that it seems close at hand. 

Paris is certainly the best place in the world in which 
to amuse oneself. You have only to put on your hat 
and walk into the street to find entertainment. At the 
season of the year when I was there, August, the sun 
shone bright all the time, but the heat was not exces- 
sive. It was warm and pleasant all day ; the air soft 
and strengthening. The sun attracts you forth. If you 
live near the Tuilleries, you go into its garden, and 
linger awhile among its fountains and statues. Then 
you pass out and cross the Seine on one of its bridges, 
which are all beautiful ; and one of them, the Pont 
Neuf, says Sterne, ' is the grandest, lightest, longest, 
and broadest, that ever joined land to land.' Book- 
stalls and picture-stalls are all along the way, and you 
loiter and look as much as you choose. No one urges 
you to buy ; on one occasion even, the master of the 
stall rebuked his boy for asking me to buy. ' The 



104 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

gentleman sees the books,' said he. Presently you 
come to some fine old building, richly decorated in 
front, and if you choose to enter, no doubt it has either 
a public library, picture gallery, or collection of curi- 
osities ; all of which are free to the public, or at least 
to strangers with their passports. But you do not 
choose to go in, and pass on. Then here is a church ; 
the door is open, of course ; in you go, and find your- 
self in the nave. You decline the holy water offered 
you on a brush by a man in black regimentals, who 
sits in an open box, by the side of the marble basin or 
perhaps enormous oyster-shell, which contains the 
sacred liquid. You pass the little old lady who sits by 
a box of tallow candles, which she sells, for a sous 
each, to those who wish to show their devotion by buy- 
ing one, and sticking it lighted on an iron triangle, to 
burn in honor of the saint to whom one of the little 
side chapels is dedicated. But here you are, walking 
up the side aisle with chapels on your right hand, each 
with its altar, its paintings, its marble statues, and 
screen or confessional of carved oak. On the left is 
the lofty nave of the church, with its clerestory and 
triforium arcade above ; and below, the pulpit stands 
on one side, perhaps carved of stone, perhaps of oak, 
and richly ornamented. Then there is the choir, shut 
off from the nave, and aisles, by a screen of stone or 
wood, and with its high altar either at the west end, or 
sometimes facing the nave, and close to it where it 
intersects the transepts. If it is a cathedral or an 
abbey church, you have the carved oak stalls for the 
canons, with open-work canopies above, and perhaps 
the bishop's throne. Behind the choir is usually a 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 105 

large Lady Chapel, that is, a chapel dedicated to the 
Virgin. 

One morning I visited the Expiatory Chapel, built 
by Louis XVIII. and Charles X. to the memory of 
Louis XVI. and Marie Antoinette. It is a small but 
beautiful marble building, and entirely secluded, though 
in the centre of the city. You enter a court surrounded 
by a high stone wall. From this, turning to the left, 
and ascending some steps, you pass through another 
court to the building. On entering the small circular 
church, I found mass being celebrated, which was 
attended by some twenty or thirty persons. I fancied 
them to be legitimists, who worshipped here with a 
reverend loyalty to the memory of their murdered 
monarchs ; and I was glad to sit in this quiet place, 
surrounded by memories of the past, during the ser- 
vice. In front of me was the altar where the priest 
was officiating ; on my right, a marble monument to 
the memory of Louis XVI., with a group representing 
the king and an angel. The inscription beneath was 
in very good taste ; it contained neither eulogy nor 
invective, but was simply the last will and testament of 
Louis XVI., written by himself just before his execu- 
tion, and breathing a spirit of resignation and piety. 
Opposite to this monument is one to Marie Antoinette. 
Here, too, are statues of the queen and an angel ; and 
in like manner the inscription below consists of her 
last letter written to her sister-in-law, the good Madame 
Elizabeth. The whole was very touching. The chapel 
stands on the place where the bodies rested in the 
ground for twenty-one years. 

Leaving this chapel at the end of the services, I 



10G ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

passed again through the gardens of the Tuilleries and 
crossed the Seine by the Pont des Arts, then went up 
the Rue de Seine to the Palais Luxembourg. I was 
first shown the Chapel of the Peers, a small but beau- 
tiful chapel, painted, gilded and marbled, with rich 
paintings around the walls by Poussin and others. 
Then I went to the ante-chamber, and bed-chamber of 
Marie de Medici. This last is not a large room, but 
one of the most beautiful I have ever seen. There are 
beautiful paintings in the panels by Rubens, at whose 
house in Cologne, Marie de Medici afterward died in 
poverty. How difficult it is to describe these sump- 
tuous apartments. For myself, I only remember a 
splendor of gold, marble, vaulted roofs, painted ceil- 
ings, immense mirrors, — that is all. Then I saw the 
Senate Chamber, where Napoleon's senators met; and 
the Chamber of Peers, unoccupied since the last Revo- 
lution, when the peerage was abolished. Around the 
last room were the busts of Massena, Augereau, and 
other French generals and marshals. My guide, who 
was himself apparently a soldier, said, ' Voici les 
hommes contre lesquels vous travailliez,' alluding to 
our Peace Congress. I replied, i Pas contre les hom- 
mes, Monsieur, mais contre le systeme ; ' I added, 
' Nous aimons le courage.' He said, ' Vous aimez le 
courage, pas le carnage.' The gardens and grounds 
of the Luxembourg are beautiful, and beautifully taken 
care of, — a sweet fragrance of heliotropes and other 
flowers comes to you as you walk. The upper part of 
the palace is appropriated to a gallery of modern 
French paintings. Some of these pictures are fine, 
and among them is the masterpiece of Horace Vernet, 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 107 

which represents Ali Bey watching the murder of the 
Mamelukes. But modern French paintings did not 
please me; there is too much glare, too much strain- 
ing for effect, too little simple, profound expression. 
Returning from this palace, 1 went with my friend 
Mr. C. to take dinner in the Palais Royal. This is 
perhaps the most famou's place in Paris, and is visited 
constantly by multitudes of Parisians. The palace 
was built by Cardinal Richelieu, and given by him to 
the king, Louis XIII. Up to that time it was called 
the Palais Cardinal ; it then fell into the hands of the 
Orleans family, who retained it till the time of the 
French Revolution. The father of Louis Philippe en- 
closed the spacious gardens with high buildings, con- 
taining in the lower story an arcade with shops ; and 
above, with cafes and restaurants. In these arcades 
are exhibited for sale all the curiosities, the jewelry, 
engravings, and works of art, which one can wish to 
see ; and the gardens which they enclose have walks 
among the fountains, flowers,' and trees. Thousands 
of wooden chairs stand around, where people sit, read 
the newspapers, smoke cigars, take their coffee, and 
chat together. Here I usually went for dinner toward 
the close of the afternoon. In these restaurants ladies 
as well as gentlemen dine ; and you often see father, 
mother, and children seated together at one of the 
small tables. Indeed, it is usual not to dine at your 
boarding-house. For a stranger in Paris, the best way 
is to engage rooms ready furnished, and to go out for 
your meals. Parisians usually take but two meals in 
the day, breakfasting at nine or ten, and dining at five 
or six. You go to a cafe for breakfast, provided you 



108 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

have not agreed to take it at home ; here you get good 
coffee and excellent bread. In fact, the Parisian bread 
is celebrated. Rolls, butter, and i cafe au lait' is the 
usual breakfast. You get a very good dinner for a 
couple of francs. After dinner it is usual to go to a 
cafe for a cup of black coffee, that is, strong coffee 
without milk. 

On the day of which I am speaking, I went after 
dinner to walk in the Champs Elysees. Here you find 
all sorts of amusements going forward, and one must 
be very difficult indeed who cannot be entertained. As 
I walked on beneath the trees, I saw a triumphal chariot 
drawn by four horses, which was surrounded by a 
crowd of people. A man was standing up in the 
chariot haranguing the crowd. I thought that perhaps 
this might be a candidate for the Chamber of Deputies, 
and that perhaps in Paris stump speeches were made 
from triumphal chariots. But on drawing near, 1 found 
the subject of the lecture to be the merits of a kind of 
paste for filling hollow feeth, a small box of which the 
orator held in his hand. Two or three gigantic teeth 
were painted on the side of the carriage, and the 
speaker diversified his entertainment by means of a 
band of music carried in his car. Then I saw another 
crowd attending a beautiful little carriage drawn by 
four goats, in harness. What the object was I did not 
learn, for I was attracted towards another crowd of 
people. They surrounded a man who had lost both 
legs. He sat down on the ground, pulled off his 
wooden legs, then stood on one hand with his stumps 
in the air, and in this agreeable attitude picked up a 
bugle in his left hand and played a tune. ' Truly,' 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 109 

thought I, ' there are many ways of making a living ! ' 
There were also a variety of revolving machines, hung 
over with little plaster images. The proprietor pre- 
sented you with a cross-bow, and for a sous you were 
allowed to shoot several times at those little images as 
they revolved, and break off their heads, provided you 
could hit them flying. Among these images I observed 
the bust of Louis Philippe very frequent. A great num- 
ber of roulette tables and other gaming tables stood 
around. Lotteries of rings and jewelry were being 
drawn. Among the spectators there were multitudes 
of soldiers of the line, of whom I was told 80,000 were 
in Paris at that time. Nothing seems more strange in 
Paris to an American, than to meet with soldiers every 
where. Our idea of a republic is, that the people are 
to govern themselves, and do not need half a million of 
soldiers to keep them in order, but the French Republic 
is very different from ours. As has been well said, 
' It is a republic without republicans.' The one fun- 
damental principle of republicanism, that of submitting 
to the decision of the majority until you can get the 
majority on your own side, the French do not under- 
stand. 

Near the Champs Elysees are the Bals-Mabilles, 
which are large gardens fitted up for dancing. People 
pay thirty cents for admission, and may dance as much 
as they choose. On an elevated platform in the middle 
is the orchestra, and the people dance round and 
round, waltzing alternately with cotillons. The people 
seemed to be of the middle classes, and danced very 
violently, with more frolic than grace. After seeing 
enough of this, I went out, and soon came to a cafe 



110 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

which had a garden connected with it, where were 
many hundred small tables and chairs, and at one end 
an orchestra. In this, which was brilliantly lighted, 
were some eight or ten well-dressed singers, and a 
band of music. The singing was good ; the people sat 
around the tables and listened to the music, and by 
way of payment had only to buy some coffee, wine or 
beer. After sitting awhile, and waiting for some 
coffee, which did not come, I walked out, and in a few 
minutes came to another establishment of the same 
kind. In each of them, I should think, there were 
seven hundred or eight hundred people, sitting around 
the tables. 

The civility of the French has certainly never been 
exaggerated. They are always courteous, and the very 
tone of their voice in replying to your question, is sweet 
and gracious. French politeness is neither art nor 
artifice, but has rts root in genuine good-nature. They 
are, to be sure, a very approbative people, as appears 
in all that they do. In conversation, they think more 
of the manner than of the matter ; and the French 
definition of good conversation, is ' to talk well about 
nothing.' Their painters aim at brilliant effects rather 
than at the expression of profound thought or feeling. 
Their writers are distinguished by clearness and pointed 
manner, rather than by depth of original research. 
Thus their love of approbation, which is often a love of 
admiration, shows itself in every thing. But together 
with this, there is also, I am sure, real kindliness of 
feeling and refinement of taste. 



CHAPTER V. 

PARIS AND THE PEACE CONVENTION. 

The first meeting of the Peace Congress for 1849 
took place on Wednesday, the 22d of August, in the 
Salle St. Cecile, Rue St. Antin. The number of mem- 
bers attending the Peace Congress as delegates was 
very large, four or five hundred having come over from 
England. The French government seemed disposed 
to show great civility to the delegates, allowing them 
to come directly to Paris without any detention. Their 
baggage was passed free, and their passports were not 
examined. Moreover, M. Coquerel announced to the 
Convention, that directions had been given to allow 
the Peace delegates to visit all national buildings and 
public places, by merely presenting their tickets as 
members of the Congress. Beside all this, the Peace 
delegates were invited to visit the Palace of Versailles, 
and that of St. Cloud, and to see the grand water- works 
at the former place, and the illuminated cascades at 
the latter. This was a compliment usually paid only 
to royal visitors, for the water-works at Versailles play 
only four times a year ; and the expense of setting 
them going is ten thousand francs. When the dele- 
gates met we found that every thing had been arranged 



112 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

beforehand. The permanent committee of the Peace 
Congress had prepared a list of officers for the Con- 
vention, drawn up resolutions, arranged the rules, and, 
in fact, selected the speakers also. The advantage of 
this was, that no time was lost in discussing matters 
of business or form ; and that we probably had much 
better speaking than if it had been left to accident to 
decide who should occupy the tribune. Probably the 
committee also feared, that if debate was left free, 
some things might be said of a troublesome kind, and 
that Socialists or Red Republicans might get possession 
of the floor. But the disadvantage of this arrangement 
was, that it deprived the discussions, to some extent, of 
reality and spirit. There was no real debate upon any 
question, but merely a succession of orations. ' The 
body of delegates, in fact, were merely spectators ; they 
had nothing to do with the proceedings of the Conven- 
tion, and are not to be held responsible for any thing 
which occurred. For instance, the Convention has been 
blamed for making M. Victor Hugo its President, a man 
of genius certainly, but not distinguished for a high 
morality ; but M. Hugo was not selected by the Con- 
vention, but by Mr. Burritt and the other gentlemen of 
the committee. So too the Convention, as we after- 
ward learned, was allowed to meet in Paris, by the 
government, only on the condition of not alluding to 
present politics. If any one is to be blamed for this, 
it is not the delegates, for they knew nothing of the 
matter until after the Congress was ended. 

M. Victor Hugo was President, and on either side 
of him sat M. Coquerel, a Protestant minister, and the 
Abbe Deguerry, the curate of the Madeleine ; both of 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 113 

them, as well as M. Hugo, very fine speakers. M. 
Coquerel speaks French and English equally well, 
having resided many years in England. He has a 
clear, strong intellect, and a very fine delivery, every 
word being admirably articulated. In his religious 
opinions he is said to be very liberal. I had a letter 
to him from Dr. G., in which he apologized for intro- 
ducing me, on the ground, that it was so many years 
since he had seen M. Coquerel, that the latter might 
have forgotten him. When I called on M. Coquerel 
he said, ' Dr. G. is much mistaken, no one can easily 
forget him ; ' and then, after inquiring about his Ameri- 
can friends, went on to speak of public affairs. He is 
a member of the Chamber of Deputies, and belongs to 
the moderate republicans, believing that France is 
better suited for a republic than for any thing else. 
' They say, to be sure,' remarked he, c that we cannot 
have a republic without republicans, but neither can 
we have an empire without an emperor.' He is pro- 
bably of opinion, that Louis Napoleon is a very different 
man from the great Napoleon. 1 

It was, perhaps, slightly ominous of the approach of 
the time when the lion and the lamb should lie down 
together, to see on either side of the President, offici- 
ating as vice-presidents, the Roman Catholic curate of 
the Madeleine, and the Protestant pastor of the Oratory. 
The good Catholic distinguished himself by a very 
animated speech ; the best, perhaps, that was made at 



1 Since this was written, M. Coquerel has proved his repub- 
licanism by being of that number of the National Assembly, 
who persisted in meeting after they were dispersed by the 
traitor Napoleon, and who went to prison in company. 
8 



114 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

the Convention. This speech, as it chanced, was 
spoken on the anniversary of the St. Bartholomew 
Massacre, of which some one reminded him ; and 
immediately, whether from a movement of feeling or 
by an artifice of rhetoric, he seemed struck with sad- 
ness, his voice faltered, and he expressed fervent 
gratitude that the time for such horrors was forever 
gone. He did something far better than this. A note 
was handed him from some one, who inquired what 
he thought of the French intervention in favor of the 
Pope. He said, on reading it, ' I know it is contrary to 
our rules to refer to the politics of the present day ; 
but this much I will say, I do not believe that good can 
ever come from compelling a people by a foreign force 
to submit to any government; they must submit of their 
own accord, or the submission is worth nothing.' An 
uproar of applause followed this utterance, for which, 
as I understand, the curate was sharply taken to task 
by some of his brother Catholics. 

The best English speaker at the Congress was, un- 
doubtedly, Mr. Cobden. His manner was a striking 
contrast to that of the French speakers ; he spoke in a 
natural, business-like style, and in an almost conver- 
sational manner. The points which he made were 
clear and striking. There was no enthusiasm, passion, 
or eloquence in what he said, but wit, and cogent argu- 
ment. Cobden looks about forty-five years old ; he is 
well-dressed, easy, and familiar in his manners. There 
is no English stiffness about him. 

Another very good speaker, among the French, was 
Emile de Girardin, the successful and famous editor of 
4 La Presse.' He has a head like a bullet, only pushed 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 115 

out behind ; his manner is very energetic, he is quick 
at repartee, and deals much in facts and figures. He 
had much to do with the Revolution which overturned 
the throne of Louis Philippe. He forced his way into 
the Tuilleries, and told the king that he must decide on 
a change of government within half an hour. In his 
speech before the Convention, he strongly urged the 
necessity of disbanding the immense standing army of 
the French Republic; and proposed that the French 
should lead the way in a general reduction of the 
armies of Europe. 

There was nothing remarkable accomplished in the 
way of speech-making, by the American delegates. 
Mr. Durkee, member of Congress from Wisconsin, 
spoke; so did President Mahan, of the Oberlin Insti- 
tute ; so, also, did Mr. Amasa Walker, and Elihu 
Burritt, and two men of color — Rev. Mr. Pennington, 
of New York, and William W. Brown, a fugitive slave. 
But they all seemed somewhat hampered by the ar- 
rangements, and did not do much justice to themselves, 
or to the American faculty of public speech. 

The Convention was continued through three days. 
The hall, which is quite a large one, was much crowded 
all the time, and the speeches, though rather common- 
place, seemed to give great satisfaction. The English 
applauded with the greatest vehemence every moral or 
humane sentiment, however trite and musty it might 
be, reminding me somewhat of the effect produced in 
the pit and galleries at the theatre, by similar sen- 
timents uttered on the stage. If any of the speakers 
at the Congress chanced to say that it was better to do 
right, than to succeed and have worldly prosperity, 



116 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

this piece of originality was sure to bring a thunder of 
applause. One of my friends remarked that such 
sentiments must be very new to them. 

On the whole, the Peace Congress probably did just 
as much good as any man could reasonably expect. 
The effect of these meetings is often exaggerated. 
To bring together those who hold certain opinions, by 
means of a Convention, does not necessarily increase 
the number holding such views. Indeed, if violent, 
weak, or extreme opinions are expressed, the Con- 
vention may injure the cause instead of helping it. 
The members, however, are seldom aware of this ; 
they enjoy each other's sympathy, and mistake the 
sentiment of the meeting for public sentiment. The 
real good done by the Peace Congress, was to call 
men's attention to the subject. War, as an institution, 
is so opposed to the convictions and the spirit of the 
present age, that it rests upon the basis of custom 
almost wholly. Many interests, indeed, are engaged 
to maintain it ; but the chief reason for keeping up 
military establishments, and attempting to settle inter- 
national disputes by bombarding cities, and destroying 
lives and property, is, that this is the way which has 
hitherto been taken. What is wanted, then, is simply 
to throw light on the ruinous and decrepit foundations 
of the system, and to call men's attention to the sub- 
ject. The Peace Conventions do precisely this ; their 
proceedings are published in most of the European 
journals, they are criticised and ridiculed. The Lon- 
don Times argues that war is necessary, and so injures 
the cause of war as much as possible ; for war cannot 
be defended by argument, only by silence. An attempt 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 117 

to defend it, injures it quite as much as any attack 
which can be made upon it. Darkness and silence 
are absolutely necessary to the continuance of some 
institutions. The opponents of war and of slavery 
gain their point, when people can be induced either to 
attack or to defend them. 

On Saturday, August 25th, I visited Le Jardin des 
Plantes, the Gobelins, the Pantheon, and the Churches 
of St. Etienne, and St. Sulpice. There are few places 
more interesting than Le Jardin des Plantes. A large 
space is laid out for beds of flowers, and plants, and 
shrubbery, of those kinds which will grow in the open 
air. Part of the grounds are covered with a great 
variety of trees ; among which is a cedar of Lebanon, 
eleven feet in circumference. Then there are five or 
six large buildings containing mu§eums of different 
kinds, each arranged with admirable method, so that 
you cannot walk through them without learning some- 
thing. One of these museums contains, in a suc- 
cession of spacious rooms, specimens of the whole 
animated creation, from zoophytes up through rnol- 
lusks, insects, reptiles and birds, to mammalia. An- 
other building is devoted to osteology, and contains 
the bones of all creatures who have bones, arranged in 
such a way as to enable you to see at a glance the 
transformations they undergo in different species and 
genera. Thus, for instance, there is a row of crania, 
from that of the fish up to that of man ; showing the 
gradual enlargement of the brain, and the increase of 
the facial angle, through this series. The study of 
comparative anatomy seems mere play with such facili- 
ties as these. Another museum is devoted to minera- 



118 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

logical specimens, some of which are very beautiful. 
Then there are very lofty hot-houses with a tropical 
climate, and containing full-grown palms, cocoa-nuts, 
dates, and other tropical trees. These gardens have 
also a great variety of living animals and reptiles. 
The gardens are open to the public, and free lectures 
are delivered in every department of science. There 
is no such place in the world for the student as Paris ; 
here he finds the finest collections in every depart- 
ment, and all thrown freely open ; beside gratuitous 
lectures of the highest order. 

One might spend many days very pleasantly in Le 
Jardin des Plantes ; but I could only devote some three 
hours to wandering through its infinite variety. Then 
I went to the manufactory of Gobelin tapestry, near 
by, which is well ^orth seeing, but has often been de- 
scribed. From there I rode to the Pantheon, a vast 
building of granite. It was formerly a church, but is 
now a public building, belonging to government, and 
on its portal accordingly, as on all the buildings of 
government, are written the three mystical words : 1 

Liberie, Egalite, Fraternite. 

The vaults of the Pantheon, built of solid granite 
throughout, contain the tombs of the most distinguished 
Frenchmen. A guide shows you through these vaults, 
and, in rather a pompous manner, informs you con- 
cerning their tenants. Most of them, as usual, are 
generals and marshals ; who may be as well buried 
there as any where else ; but when you come to the 
tomb of Jean Jacques Rousseau, you cannot but think 



Since effaced by Napoleon. 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 119 

it hard that this lover of nature should be buried under 
such a solid mass of masonry. Robin Hood says, in 
one of the ballads : 

• Lay me a green turf under my head, 

And another at my feet, 
And lay my bent bow by my side 

Which was my music sweet, 
And make my grave of gravel and green, 

As is most right and meet.' 

So, one would think that it was most ' right and meet' 
to lay Rousseau by the side of Lake Leman, among 
the vines of Clarens, or beneath the rocks of Meil- 
lerie. 

From the summit of the Pantheon, above its lofty 
dome, you have a fine view over the Latin quarter of 
Paris. Beneath you lie the Gardens of the Luxembourg ; 
not far is the Jardin des Plantes, the vast Halles de 
Vins, where the wines brought into Paris are deposited ; 
you see the windings of the Seine, you look westward 
toward the dome of the Hotel des Invalides, and the 
noble triumphal arch of the barrier De L'Etoile. In 
another direction rise the towers of Notre Dame, the 
Hotel de Ville, and the Palace of the Louvre. No one 
should omit ascending to this place. Beside this, I had 
views of other parts of the city from the top of Napo- 
leon's Pillar, in the Place Vendome, from the top of 
the Arc de L'Etoile and from the Heights of Mont- 
martre. Descending, I entered the little Church of 
St. Etienne du Mont, which stands near the Pantheon 
on the West, and as I entered, the shadow of the great 
dome of the Pantheon, in the afternoon sun, was creep- 
ing up the steps of the church, recalling to my memory 



120 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

the truthful description in one of Wendell Holmes's 
little lyrics : 

' I wandered through the haunts of men, 
From Boulevard to Quai, 
Till, frowning o'er St. Etienne, 
The Pantheon's shadow lay.' 

The Cathedral of Notre Dame, immortalized in Vic- 
tor Hugo's romance, is the oldest and finest church in 
Paris. Still, among cathedrals, it docs not stand very 
high ; it contains, however, some remarkahle treas- 
ures which are well worth looking at. In the sacristy 
you are shown the splendid coronation robes, worn by 
Napoleon, and given by him to the church ; also, 
the splendid robes given by the Emperor for that occa- 
sion to the archbishops and bishops. These were of 
velvet, silver, and gold, and very magnificent. This 
treasury also contained crosses, pyxes, and altar orna- 
ments, of solid gold, set with emeralds, diamonds, and 
rubies. The most noticeable thing, however, is a real 
relic, more valuable, because genuine, than the doubt- 
ful bones, nails, and sticks often shown as such. This 
was the bullet which killed the Archbishop of Paris in 
June, 1848, when he mounted the barricades for the 
purpose of pacifying the insurgents in that bloody out- 
break. Pie was shot dead, basely, from the window of 
a house, and died a trure Christian martyr to the cause 
of peace. The two vertebral bones through which the 
ball passed, together with the bullet itself on the point 
of a golden arrow, which shows the direction it took, 
are contained in a rich casket. 

Monday, August 27th. I went with the English and 
American members of the Peace Congress, by invitation 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 121 

of the government, to visit Versailles. This palace, 
with its grounds, is well worth visiting ; being the most 
magnificent building of the sort that ever was erected, 
and perhaps that ever will be. The expense was so great 
that Louis XIV., ' le grand monarque,' feared to let it be 
known, and destroyed the accounts. It is estimated, 
however, to have cost forty million sterling, or two 
hundred millions of dollars. The debt incurred by this 
enormous outlay, together with that occasioned by the 
wars of Louis XIV. and his successor, was one of the 
direct causes of the first Revolution. This enormous 
palace remains as it was when occupied by Louis XIV., 
except that the last king, Louis Philippe, has turned it 
into a National Museum, and filled it with several 
miles of fine pictures. These paintings are almost 
exclusively of war and battle, representing all the 
battles fought by the French from the days of Clovis to 
the days of Louis Philippe himself. It was impossible 
to stop and look carefully at any picture ; all one could 
do, was to walk slowly and steadily forward, and walk- 
ing in this way without stopping, it took me two hours 
and a half to go through the palace. Some of the 
paintings are very good, especially those by Horace 
Vernet and Ary Schefer. There is one picture of 
immense length — say thirty or forty feet long — 
representing a detachment of French mounted soldiers 
making a dash at the caravan of the Pacha in Algeria. 
The whole scene is very spirited. The hot, sandy 
desert, the wild, half-naked Arabs, the rushing horse- 
men, the startled camels, and the women of the ha- 
rem, leaping in terror from their pavilions on the 
camels' backs, make a very animated scene. Some of 



122 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

the battles of Napoleon are very well painted. Instead 
of a confused tumult of struggling soldiers, you have 
separate scenes, containing a few figures, and striking 
incidents of the battle. There are several portraits of 
Louis Philippe; one in his uniform as lieutenant-colonel 
under Dumouriez ; and one room devoted to the inci- 
dents of the Revolution of 1830. In one picture, 
La Fayette is introducing Louis Philippe to the people 
as lieutenant-general. I did not see any pictures of the 
Revolution of 1848 ; those are yet to be painted ; and 
then we may have the last scene in the eventful life of 
the citizen-king ; namely, his running away in a sail- 
or's jacket and tarpaulin. Perhaps the most interest- 
ing pictures in this collection are the portraits in the 
upper story, of distinguished persons in French history. 
I could have lingered long over these striking memo- 
rials of the kings and queens, the poets and philoso- 
phers, the statesmen and court beauties of the last three 
centuries. Among them, are portraits of the American 
Presidents ; and under a good head of Benjamin 
Franklin is written, 'Franklin, President of Pennsyl- 
vania.'' This vast palace contains a splendid chapel, 
and a fine theatre ; the walls of both are covered with 
marble and gold, and the ceilings painted by the first 
artists of the age. There is also the bed-chamber of 
Louis XIV., which remains as when he occupied it, 
and where this martyr to etiquette used to be dressed 
and undressed by his noblemen ; each having his 
special part assigned in the great transaction ; such a 
duke putting on the garters, and such a marquis hand- 
ing the teeth-brush. Then there is the famous Oeil de 
BoRuf, — so called from a long oval window at one end, 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 



123 



the scene of court intrigues. You may also see the 
private apartments of Marie Antoinette, and the passages 
through which she fled when the raging revolutionary 
mob broke into her chamber ; and the window recess, 
where Mirabeau declared to Louis XVI. that he must 
make certain concessions, or lose his crown. But the 
most splendid room is the immense ' Hall of Mirrors,' 
filled from end to end with mirrors and statuary ; and 
which, it is said, large as it is, used to be crowded daily 
by the courtiers in attendance of Louis XIV. 

After walking through the palace, the English dele- 
gation invited the American delegates to a collation in 
the famous Tennis Court ; to which the third estate 
adjourned when they found themselves excluded from 
their own hall. The interest attached to such places, 
is a proof of the power of the soul. A single heroic 
action, a deed of devotion, even the utterance of gene- 
rous convictions, will give dignity to a sandy plain, or 
a miserable building. Even the magnificent palace we 
had just seen, erected and ornamented with such lavish 
expense, and itself the scene of so many historic events, 
was hardly so interesting as these old walls, weather- 
stained and crumbling. For the French Revolution, 
with all its immense results, hung on the determined 
resolution which brought those plebeians to this spot. 
Then, first, the popular will asserted itself in opposition 
to the nobility and the king, and here its triumph was 
virtually achieved. 

After dinner we went to see the grand Water-works, 
in the Park and Gardens of Versailles. This great park 
contains thousands of acres, filled with the finest 
shrubbery, the most stately trees, and the smoothest 



124 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

plots of grass. The fountains are of marble, and 
contain groups of sea-horses, gods, and goddesses. 
As the water is pumped up into a reservoir, and there 
is none to spare, they are made to play in succession, 
and not all at once ; so you visit them in turn. My 
private opinion was, that the ' Grandes Eaux ' were a 
grand humbug ; while the parks and gardens, the 
statues and lakes, the flowers and shrubbery, consti- 
tuted a scene of unsurpassed beauty. Nature perhaps 
is here too much subdued and controlled by art. There 
is nothing ' wild without rule or stint, enormous bliss ' 
— all shows restraint, limits, the economy of art, not the 
exuberance of nature. Still it is always a comfort to 
see any thing well done ; and surely palatial magnifi- 
cence is here thoroughly done, — done once and for- 
ever. The stately pomp of Versailles can never be 
rivalled. From Versailles, we went to the Palace of 
St. Cloud, the favorite residence of Napoleon, but then 
inhabited by his nephew Louis Napoleon. The Presi- 
dent did not condescend to show himself, but we were 
shown through the palace and gardens by officials in 
uniform. The fountains here were made to play ; 
though, as 1 said before, any thing which is made to 
play possesses but a questionable beauty. Artificial 
gaiety, and fountains driven by means of forcing pumps, 
might as well be dispensed with. But the illuminated 
cascades at night were veiy striking, and of a peculiar 
beauty. The water fell down long flights of marble 
steps, where thousands of lamps burned behind the 
falling sheets, and vases in the midst contained blazing 
torches, surrounded by water spouting into the air. 
The glare of light was very great, and the reflection 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 125 

from the tumbling waters extremely brilliant. At the 
close of the exhibition, colored fires were kindled, and 
the flames, green, deep crimson, pure white, and blue, 
gave a mysterious character to the scene. At last 
darkness fell, and we walked in silent procession, 
between rows of tall footmen carrying torches, to the 
cars which were to take us back to Paris. 

The next day, at six in the afternoon, I set out with 
three companions for Switzerland, by the way of Stras- 
burg. We were to go some forty miles by rail to Eper- 
nay, and from there by diligence to Strasburg. But, in- 
stead of going to the railroad station and taking our seats 
in the car, as we should have done in America, we went 
to the Messagerie, or office of the Strasburg diligence, 
and took our seats in a diligence. The French diligence 
is the same thing now that it was in the days of Sterne. 
It consists of three divisions below and one above. The 
division in front is called the coupe, and contains one 
seat for three persons, with windows in front and on the 
sides, through which you look out under the driver's 
seat. Behind the coupe is the interieure, behind that the 
rotonde. These hold six persons each ; on top, behind 
the driver, is the banquette, which contains seats for 
three and the conductor. In this lofty place we had 
engaged seats a week beforehand. The coupe is con- 
sidered the best place, and the cost is the highest, but 
from the banquette you get a better view of the coun- 
try. We climbed to our seats by means of a ladder, 
and set off, drawn by five horses, (one being fastened 
by the side of our wheel-horses,) for the railroad sta- 
tion. I could not understand why we and our luggage 
should be packed so carefully into the diligence, if 



126 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

we were presently to get into a railroad car; but the 
reason was soon made manifest. After rolling merrily 
through the streets of Paris, the driver screaming, 
shouting, and cracking his whip violently all the way, 
as is the custom of French drivers from time immemo- 
rial, we arrived at the Debarcadere. Here we found 
three or four other diligences, which had come from 
other messageries. Presently our diligence was driven 
under a kind of platform, and chains being attached 
to it, the coach-body, passengers, luggage, and all, 
were hoisted by machinery into the air, swung round 
and deposited on the railroad car, leaving our horses 
and carriage wheels behind. Off we went by rail to 
Epernay, where another driver, horses, and carriage 
wheels were in attendance to receive us ; and being 
again hoisted and swung upon the wheels, we trundled 
off once more behind our six horses, and shouting 
driver, toward Strasburg. 

The road from Paris to Strasburg is not very inter- 
esting. It goes mostly through a level country, with few 
large towns. It is macadamized, with stone walls in 
some places on either side, but more commonly sepa- 
rated from the fields by nothing but a ditch. It passes 
between avenues of trees, such as poplar, ash, and oak. 
Ever and anon you come to a little village, filled up 
compact with wooden buildings daubed with lime. 
The inhabitants of these villages are agriculturists. 
Farm-houses are not scattered as in America, each 
man living on his own farm, but are collected together 
here and there in these hamlets. They are often 
walled, reminding you of the times when feudal rob- 
bers prowled through the land like wolves. The 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 127 

necessity of clustering together for safety occasioned 
the villages to be thus arranged. Not only the road 
has usually no fence, but the fields are not separated 
by fences; and one man's field is distinguished from 
his neighbor's only by the different appearance of his 
crop. In order that every man may have access to 
the road, the fields are very narrow, and extend back- 
ward very far, so that you see the whole country 
around you divided into narrow strips of vegetation. 
The crops were grapes, hemp, flax, wheat, and at last 
we were pleased to meet with an old friend, Indian 
corn. By moonlight, the whole scene became strange- 
ly beautiful ; we seemed to be riding among gardens 
and palaces ; for the plastered houses of each village, 
glorified in the moonlight, shone like granite or mar- 
ble. Meantime the sweet tones of the French talking 
to each other, filled the ear very pleasantly. The 
girls prattled, the diligence rolled rapidly along on 
the hard white road, on which the moonlight lay like 
water, and on which the shadows of the trees, which 
made an avenue on either side of us, fell at regular 
intervals, black as night. Anon, as I sank into a half 
dream, the conductor by my side wound his bugle, and 
we rattled over the pavements into some small vil- 
lage. I strained my eyes to discover whether the 
walls around me were fortifications or palaces ; but, 
before I could settle the point, away we rolled again 
between green fields and other avenues of trees. 
Sometimes in the distance rose the spire of a church, 
or two loftier twin towers would mark themselves 
against the horizon. On and on through the silent 
night, under the blazing full moon of merry France, 



128 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

through her fair vineyards, on and on toward her eastern 
boundary we went, until as the second morning dawns 
— lo ! there rose afar the well known form of the great 
spire of Strasburg. Nothing else was yet visible — all 
the city lay below the horizon or behind the woods ; 
but far up into the air stood Erwin's lofty masterpiece, 
and drew us toward it as with a mighty charm. 

The day on which we left Paris, August 28th, was 
the centennial anniversary of the birth of Goethe, and 
was celebrated in many parts of Germany by public 
addresses, dinners, speeches, and the representation of 
his plays. There is no great man of modern times 
concerning the character and measure of whose great- 
ness, opinion — out of Germany at least — is so much 
divided. From Thomas Carlyle, who regards him as 
a demi-god, to Andrews Norton, who looks upon him 
as little better than a demi-devil, there is space for 
for a variety of opinions. For myself, having studied 
his writings more or less, for twenty years, it seems to 
me that a more profound and creative intellect has not 
visited the earth in these latter days. The basis of his 
mind is a healthy realism ; he is a matter-of-fact man, 
no mystic, but in the possession of a clear, sharp, 
understanding, which draws accurate outlines around 
every thought and thing. His method is to take his 
departure always from actual experience. He received 
in his cradle the happy birth-gift of an insatiate curi- 
osity, and a firm belief in the significance of all things. 
He studies nature, therefore, to find its meaning ; and, 
with a sharpness of observation which makes him a 
modern Aristotle, he possesses a faith in the deeply 
marvellous character of the universe, which fits him 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 129 

for the companionship of Plato. There are no words 
which occur more frequently in his writings than 
those which express this feeling of the marvellous ; 
such as l Wunderlich,' ' Wunderbar,' and so on. This 
healthy, balance of faculty, this harmonious union 
of unwearied powers of observation and large gifts 
of reflection, which led him ever from analysis to 
synthesis, which made his poetry philosophy, and 
his philosophy poetry, gives to Goethe the seal of 
commanding greatness. The chief advantage of study- 
ing his writings is, to see in them what a wealth of 
thought he could find under the surface of our every- 
day existence, and how to an earnest mind common 
life teems with wonders. Whatever other duties he 
may have neglected, one at least he faithfully fulfilled, 
that of thorough self-culture. Every thing in his ca- 
reer was secondary to this ; rank, reputation, and all 
outward advantages, were to him merely opportunities 
for new experience, for new development of his own 
faculties. So, to copy his own words, concerning Schil- 
ler, — 'So he went onward, ever onward, for eighty- 
three years ; then indeed he had gone far enough.' 

It is idle to sneer at such a life as this. The wise 
and good of his own land and time, who knew him 
best, loved and reverenced him the most. The rever- 
ence and love of sigch men as Schiller, Herder, Hum- 
boldt, Schleiermacher, and in a word, all the eminent 
Germans of his time, could not have been obtained by 
any mean-minded or shallow person. Those who pro- 
fess to admire Schiller, and depreciate Goethe, should 
remember that no man loved and respected Goethe 
more than did Schiller himself, and that this affection 



130 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

was so returned that the death of Schiller was the great 
grief in the life of his friend. Their friendship, indeed, 
was like that of David and Jonathan, Henry IV. and 
Sully, Gustavus and Oxenstiern, and those few other 
instances where the true conditions of friendship have 
been fulfilled, of different characters, powers, and ten- 
dencies, united by a common aim. 

The works of Goethe extend through a range of 
subjects, and a variety of studies unexampled perhaps 
in literary history. Voltaire was as various in his sub- 
jects, but not in his faculty. He wrote poems, and 
plays, history, philosophy and works of science, and 
through all these flashed the keen intellect, and glittered 
the light wit of the versatile Frenchman. But it is the 
same faculty which appears engaged in all these sub- 
jects. His poetry is witty poetry, the product of the 
understanding not of the imagination ; his philosophy 
is witty philosophy, a sharp analysis, but no broad 
deduction. But Goethe, in his poetry, displays a lyric 
faculty, of which there is no other modern example. ' 
His smaller poems are each like a separate flower 
growing on its own stalk ; each seems to have made 
itself, to have sung itself. In Faust, again, we have 
a wild flight of imagination, like that of Bryant's 
wild fowl beating with his wings all day at a far 
height ' the cold thin atmospher^.' A mysterious 
beauty, snatches of life, pathos, sharp observation, and 
daring reflections, make this work a perpetual astonish- 
ment. Again, in Iphigenia, we have a reproduction 
of the calm Greek muse. Purity, simplicity of plot, 
severe unity of aim, the absence of all exuberance, 
and a statue-like outline of each character, make this 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 131 

play a perfect antithesis to the Faust. Again, in Her- 
mann and Dorothea, we have another poem, standing 
at the head of still another style of poetic creation. 
Like the Iphigenia, it contains few characters and a 
simple plot ; but the spirit and tone is wholly modern, 
while that of Iphigenia is essentially antique. In Her- 
mann and Dorothea there is the subjectivity of modern 
times. The interest arises wholly from the feelings and 
sentiments of the persons introduced. It is all devel- 
oped out of their own inward states, and the events of 
the piece are merely the occasions which reveal this 
inward history. The reverse is the case in the Iphi- 
genia. There, as in the old Greek drama, all is 
objective ; the events do not reveal, but create the 
characters ; they are swayed and moulded by their 
outward circumstances ; a terrible fate sweeps them 
onward on its dark stream. Of all the works of 
Goethe, none perhaps is more sweet and lovely than 
the Hermann and Dorothea. The ancient form and 
the modern material give it a special charm. The 
same thing may be said of the Tasso. This, also, has 
a classic form and a romantic substance. Most modern 
in its feelings and sentiments, it is severely antique in 
its artistic shape. But though -deeply interesting, it 
has not the joyful, sunny beauty of the other. 

Passing from the poems of Goethe to his prose, we 
meet agajn with the action of entirely new powers in 
Wilhelm Meister. The substance treated here is once 
more modern life ; but it is treated not poetically, but 
ethically. The object is not to paint life as it is, but 
to show how, being what it is, we are to make the 
best use of it. The book is thoroughly prosaic, and 



132 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

was sharply blamed by Novalis on this account, but 
unwisely ; for the end to be obtained was thereby more 
surely reached. It is strange, indeed, that a mind so 
poetic in its whole structure as that of Goethe, could 
have written a work so thoroughly prosaic in its form 
as this. We look at the inside of life, not the outside. 
We see every character in its motives and springs of 
action, not in its manifestations. Goethe gives the 
inward history of all the events likely to occur in 
human life, but stops short as soon as he comes to their 
outward development. Some one compares reading 
this book to looking at the inside of a watch. You see 
the machinery of every character, and the causes of 
every event. To how many persons this book has 
been a revelation of life ! How many have here seen, 
for the first time, that there is such a thing as an Art 
of life, and have learned what a complex wisdom is 
involved therein ! 

Of Goethe's numerous contributions to science, — 
of his labors in various departments of natural history, 
his studies of plants, of bones, and minerals, and his 
optical works, — we can only say that they are not 
like the scientific works of Voltaire, — a skimming 
over the surface of many sciences, or a resume of the 
discoveries of other minds, but profound and original 
observations of an independent thinker. Accordingly, 
the discoveries of Goethe in those departments have 
opened the way for a new progress of science. In a 
word, in science he has done more than any other man 
to change the analytical tendency of the eighteenth 
century, into the synthetical tendency of the nine- 
teenth ; to change science from an arbitrary to a 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 133 

natural system ; to make it dynamical rather than 
mechanical ; a growth out of a living germ, instead 
of a mere collection of facts and laws. Thus his idea 
of the metamorphosis of plants, has shown to botanists 
how the various forms of stalk, leaf, bud, and flower, 
are variations of one original germ. In osteology, 
Goethe first detected the transformations of the ver- 
tebra, which have since been so thoroughly developed 
by Oken and Owen. Of course, the partisans of the 
old school of science, who are still governed by the 
analytic tendency, do not appreciate what Goethe has 
done here ; but men like Geoffrey St. Hilaire and De 
Candolle in France, Owen and Whewell in England, 
Oken and Agassiz in Germany, recognise him as their 
leader in some of their most important discoveries. 

Wednesday, August 29th, ; ,we rode all day in our 
diligence, the country being still level or slightly undu- 
lating, and the crops consisting of flax, turnips, pota- 
toes, Indian corn, and grape-vines. The villages looked 
poor, and we saw women working in the fields. We 
stopped for breakfast at Barleduc, and for dinner at 
Nancy. We saw on our right the high towers of the 
church at Toul. Our breakfasts and dinners were 
rather curious. We had soup and claret at breakfast; 
at dinner they gave us first soup, then some boiled 
beef, and boiled mutton ; then they took that away, 
and put some fried mutton and pork on the table ; after 
that came fricasseed chickens ; then roast pigeons ; 
then a plate of cabbage, and after it was removed, 
another of potatoes; presently in walked a roast pullet, 
which was followed by calf-foot jellies, maccaroni, and 



134 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

sponge cake ; and the dinner was wound up by grapes, 
plums, melons, and nuts. 

We reached Strasburg at seven, A. M., on Thurs- 
day. This is one of the most strongly fortified cities 
of Europe. We passed over a moat by a draw-bridge, 
then through double walls into the city. Our great 
object here was the Minster, the famous work' of 
Ervvin of Steinbach, who died A. D. 1318. Its spire 
is the tallest in Europe, being four hundred and sev- 
enty-five feet high. When near to the building, this 
great height is not apparent on account of the extreme 
loftiness of the western front, which is covered with 
the most beautiful and light stone-work. The spire is 
a curious pyramid of open stone-work, and contains 
a series of spiral stairways running up within little 
columns or buttresses. Having read what Goethe says 
of this building, I expec^d to receive a great impres- 
sion from it ; but a great deal, on these occasions, 
depends upon the circumstances. We saw it under a 
hot noon-day sun, and were vexed by the troublesome 
conduct of our guides, whom we had not, as yet, 
learned to manage ; so that, on the whole, the impres- 
sion on my mind of this great cathedral was less 
marked than that of some others. We saw, of course, 
the famous Clock, which stands in one of the transepts, 
which contains a dial-plate showing mean time, and 
another of apparent time, and yet another giving the 
position of the sun in the sign of the zodiac. There 
is also on this clock a calendar which shows the moon's 
age : and when the clock strikes twelve, a cock on the 
top claps his wings and crows ; then from a door some 
figures, representing the apostles, walk out, and, as 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 135 

they pass around, strike the hour on a bell. There is 
a boy, too, who turns his hour-glass, and a figure of 
Christ, who blesses the apostles as they pass. Then 
comes a chariot, bearing the name of the day of the 
week, and containing the god of the day. All this 
happens every day at twelve, and a crowd of persons 
come in and admire it. 



CHAPTER VI. 



THE BLACK FOREST AND SWITZERLAND. 

Two railroads leave Strasburg, by either of which 
one can enter Switzerland. That on the west side of 
the Rhine goes through France to Basle ; that on the 
east, through Baden to Freyburg in Breisgau, and so 
on to Basle. Our plan was to go by the latter road as 
far as Freyburg, and then through the Black Forest to 
ScharFhausen, at the Falls of the Rhine. We crossed 
the Rhine from Strasburg by a bridge of boats, and 
rode in an omnibus three or four miles to Kehl, from 
whence a short railroad connects with the Baden road. 
Kehl was formerly a strong fortress to protect Ger- 
many from French invasion by the way of Strasburg. 
Here we entered Germany, and here we found that a 
knowledge of the German language would have been 
useful. Our baggage was examined at a custom-house 
on the island which divides the Rhine into two branches 
opposite to Strasburg. In taking our railroad tickets 
at Kehl, we found that we were too late for the after- 
noon train to Freyburg ; but at length we discovered, 
by the use of such German words as we could recol- 
lect, that we might take the train to the junction at 
Appenwier, and there wait for a freight train, and ride 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 137 

on that a certain distance, when we should meet ano- 
ther freight train which should carry us to Freyburg, 
though we should not reach that city till late in the 
evening. On these railroads you pay separately for 
your baggage, which must be weighed, and a ticket is 
put on each piece, you taking a receipt for your bag- 
gage. When we reached Appenwier, and were about 
to get out, it appeared that one of our party had lost 
his luggage receipt, and was unable to explain this to 
the baggage-master from his ignorance of German. 
Here was a perplexity. Stop we could not without 
the baggage ; go on we could not, for the train was 
going the wrong way ; explain the affair we could not, 
for we had forgotten suddenly all our German. This 
was ridiculous enough, especially as I had translated a 
German book into English. My case, however, was 
not quite as bad as that of a gentleman who reads 
thirty languages, and yet, when he arrived at Paris, 
was unable, they say, to call a cab. To find a person 
now who could speak French, we thought would be a 
luxury indeed. So I looked around, and saw one who 
might serve as an interpreter, and I began to explain 
to him in French our difficulty ; but he quietly re- 
marked, ' You had better speak English, sir.' Morti- 
fying as this implied criticism on my French might be, 
I was glad enough to find so learned a Theban, who 
spoke English, French, and Gertnan equally well. A 
few words from him to the baggage- master procured 
the lost carpet-bag, and our first difficulty in Germany 
was thus happily at an end. 

As it was a pleasant afternoon, I was not sorry to 
travel slowly in the open car, connected with the 



138 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

freight train, from which we could see the fine country 
along the Rhine in either direction. In the cars were 
German peasants and Prussian soldiers, all smoking 
their pipes. Baden was filled, we found, with Prussian 
troops, in consequence of the insurrection which had 
just been subdued by the aid of the Prussian soldiery. 
Every little town was garrisoned by them, and several 
times while in Baden we were stopped by these Prus- 
sian soldiers, conspicuous with their leather helmets 
with brass spike on its top, who demanded our pass- 
ports. When we reached Freyburg at nine in the 
evening, a small platoon marched up and surrounded 
our car, refusing to let us get out, and presenting their 
bayonets when we attempted it. We thought this 
rather an inhospitable reception, and what they want- 
ed we could not tell. We tried them with our best 
French, and our worst German unsuccessfully, and 
then talked to them in English by way of relieving our 
minds. Still the bayonets remained immovable. At 
last I thought of handing them my passport, directing 
the attention of their leader to the Prussian vise on its 
back, and saying emphatically, ' Prusse, Prusse ;' 
this had its effect. He studied the passport awhile, 
turning it upside down and over and over, looking at 
its front, then at its back ; finally he laughed, handed 
it back, and let us go. Whether they suspected us of 
being revolutionary leaders, or for what other reason 
they stopped us, I cannot tell ; nor indeed why they let 
us go at last, for as to the passport, they plainly could 
not read a word of it. 

We had found in Murray's Guide-book that there was 
a new inn in Freyburg, called the Fohrenbach Inn, 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 139 

kept by a man who spoke English. Thither accord- 
ingly, being disgusted with our experiments in German, 
we directed our steps. I found a boy who agreed to 
guide us, demanding, as his recompense, some myste- 
rious German coin. He seized one of our carpet-bags 
and ran ofF, we following. The Fohrenbach inn we 
soon reached, and a very good one it was. The land- 
lord was delighted to see us, for the insurrection in 
Baden had put a stop to the travels of the English, and 
he had no one in his house but some Prussian officers, 
who were quartered on him quite contrary to his own 
wishes. He gave us fine, large rooms, and comfortable 
beds, where we first made an acquaintance with the 
inevitable German feather-bed, laid over you by way of 
a comforter. After tea I went out to see the great 
Frey burg Minster by moonlight. Lovely in the moon- 
light arose its lofty spire, more fair and graceful, I 
must needs think, in its proportions, than that of Stras- 
burg. 1 stood long gazing at it till it at last seemed 
like a giant sentinel guarding the city, or an angel 
placed to watch all night over the houses, or a saint 
keeping his vigils, and passing the hours in prayer. 
The architect of this is said to have been the master 
of Erwin of Steinbach, the builder of the Strasburg 
Minster. Most of this church was erected in the 
thirteenth century. The tower and spire are so admi- 
rably proportioned that they mingle together, and seem 
soaring from the ground toward the sky. Their height 
is three hundred and eighty feet, of stone throughout, 
and carved into tracery of open-work. I found on 
ascending it, the next morning, that from the top of the 
tower upward, the spire was entirely hollow within, 



without a tie-beam of any kind to hold it together. As 
you stood inside, you looked up, two hundred feet to 
the top. I was Tery reluctant to leave this building, 
and I was reminded of what Scott says of the expedi- 
ency of looking at the ruins of Melrose by moonlight 
It seems to me that this applies to all great and solemn 
works of architecture. Also he is right in saying, 
' Go alone.' In the daytime, at least if the building 
stands in the midst of a city, with the noise of common 
life going on around, you fail often of the great impres- 
sion. You can no more look at a building to advantage 
from the tumult of a street, than you could see to 
advantage a painting or a statue in a like situation. In 
the day, you cannot stop to look at a building, without 
being pestered by the importunity of guides. But in 
the night, when the .11, and all common- 

place objects veiled in darkness, the vast cathedral 
rises before you like a dream of the past It speaks of 
the ages when it was built ; each stone being laid in 
awe and love by men who 

ririist'.vii :";:;i. '>:«i -.iry :::"._ l;: ::-:-t , 
7. -: ........ :-f :•:: .„•:! -._-.;■- - :ie — 

The conscious stone to beauty grew. 7 

It speaks of the generations who have worshipped therein 
from year to year through the intervening centuries, 
of the countless prayers and hymns which have satu- 
rated its walls with their devotion ; it speaks of the 
f faith, hope, and love, amid the changes of the 
world; it tells us that while churches fall, worship 
endures; that while human institutions crumble, human 
knowledge passes away, human opinions change, there 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 141 

arc undying convictions of the heart which renew 
themselves evermore from age to age. 

Next morning, rising by break of clay, though it was 
midnight before the Minster let us go to rest, I climbed 
with one. of my companions a high hill close to the 
town, where the old men take their exercise, and the 
young people make love. Here we saw the town, 
spread below us like a large map., Prussian troops, 
the size of mosquitoes, were parading in the great 
square, which was the size of a sheet of letter paper. 
Before us rose the spire of the Minster, — graceful and 
airy in the morning light, as it had been grand and 
solemn the night before. I felt concerning this build- 
ing, more than any other that I had seen, as if it had a 
conscious soul. 

Gradually acquiring a little German, we began to 
help ourselves along in emergencies. For instance, 
we asked our way to the hill by saying, with an 
intensely interrogative tone, • Zum Schlossberge ? 
Rechts ? Links ? ' Then we could buy grapes, or 
peaches, in the market, by the use of the simple phrase 
1 Wie viel? ' — On my putting this question to a simple 
maiden, pointing to a basket of plums, and showing a 
kreutzer — about half a cent — she said ' Zwanzig,' 
which somewhat puzzled me. Was it twenty plums for 
half a cent, or ten cents for one plum ? She, however, 
solved the difficulty by first placing five plums in one 
of my hands, then five in the other, then she piled 
five more on the two, and was proceeding to add other 
five, when I put down a part, and took instead a bunch 
of grapes. 

As there were four in our party, we thought it best 



142 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

to take a voiture, or carriage, to SchafFhausen and 
Zurich. So after breakfast we went out to make some 
inquiries on this subject, and to see the interior of the 
Minster, with its beautiful painted glass windows, its 
bas-reliefs, and the monument and effigy of the Duke 
of Zahringen. From ' Murray's Hand-book ' — which 
we found such an invaluable companion, and so correct 
in all its information, that we soon familiarly named it 
4 The infallible Murray ' — we learned that there were 
such things as return-carriages. A return-carriage is 
a carriage which is going back to where it belongs, 
and the price of such an one, is only half the charge 
for a carriage going from where it belongs: Our land- 
lord told us that there was a return-carriage for SchafT- 
hausen and Zurich stopping at his hotel, and the price 
for this distance — about eighty miles — was seventy- 
five francs. He, of course, highly recommended the 
voiturier, and said that seventy-five francs was very 
cheap. ' Perhaps it is,' thought we, ' but let us 
inquire further.' So, going to the other principal hotel, 
I found a second return-carriage, the driver of which 
was highly recommended by the master of thai hotel, 
and who proposed to take us for sixty francs. As soon 
as the first driver heard of this, he reduced the charge 
to sixty francs too ; whereupon the other offered to take 
us for fifty. Fearing that they might come down in 
their ardor of competition quite too far, after grave 
deliberation on the appearance of the drivers, their 
horses, and their carriages, we accepted the fifty-franc 
voiturier ; saying that if he drove to suit us, we would 
add a five franc piece at the end of the journey for 
' bonnes-main,' or ' trink-geld ' : by which these drivers 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 143 

understand a small additional gratuity given on such 
occasions. 

It was eleven o'clock in the morning of a hot day, 
when we set forth in our voiture. The way went 
through the valley made famous by Moreau's retreat 
in 1796 with the French army, in the wars of the 
French Revolution. It is called ' Hbllenthal,' or Hell- 
valley, and like most places with similar names is an 
exceedingly romantic and lovely spot. In one place 
the road goes through a pass somewhat like the Notch 
in the White Mountains. The rocks rise steep and 
high, green with moss and overhanging vines, and as 
the way winds on among them, the pass expands, and 
the high hills are clothed with the dark green verdure 
of the fir and beech. The river Treisam, bordered 
with turf and with mills here and there along its course, 
runs beneath the overhanging rocks. At the town of 
Steig we stopped an hour, and took a dinner of bread 
and fruit, with a bottle of the country wine which in 
America we should call bad cider. While the horses 
were resting, I walked down into a field behind the 
house, through which meandered some little talkative 
brooks. By one of these I sat down, and thought of 
Shakspeare's brook, of which he says, that 

1 When his fair course is not limited, 
He makes sweet music with the enamelled stones, 
Giving a gentle kiss to every sedge 
He overtaketh in his pilgrimage ; 
And so by many a winding nook he strays 
With willing course, to the Avild ocean.' 

As I looked at the play of light on the surface of this 
tiny stream, I thought that, after all, it was the most 



144 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

beautiful thing I had seen in Europe. I also reflected 
that there were fifty such within an hour's ride of my 
own home. ' Why then, 1 said I, c should we come to 
Europe to see the Falls of the Rhine, and the snowy 
Alps, when we have this inexhaustible beauty all around 
us at home ? Perhaps, however, it is a sufficient reason 
for coming, that we may learn by our journey that we 
have the same beauty at home. 1 

Departing from Steig, we ascended a steep hill, leav- 
ing the fine scenery behind. Then we went on to Lens- 
feldt,and came to an inn where we stopped; and while 
the horses were eating their black bread, we went in, 
and chiefly, in order to see the people, called for some 
bread and butter. The host and his wife both spoke a 
little French, and we were surprised to find how much 
at home we felt with any one who could speak French. 
As soon as they found we were from America, the 
landlord and the men, standing around, began to ask 
questions about America, — how to get there, the rate 
of wages, the price of land, the expense of living, &c. 
Meantime the old lady, the innkeeper's wife, came and 
stood behind us, and occasionally, in a quiet tone, asked 
some question about America, and about different 
places there. I knew by her manner that she had 
friends in the United States, and presently she told me 
so. She had a son in Cincinnati, and nephews in 
Reading and Pittsburg, and a young son at home who 
wished to go to America too. We every where found 
the common people in Europe interested about the 
United States. Not a man we saw and spoke to, but 
was thinking more or less seriously of emigrating. 

Our good landlord in this little inn advised us not to 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 145 

go so far as Stuhlingen, to pass the night ; telling us 
that we should find that place full of Prussian soldiers, 
and should have difficulty in getting lodgings. Stuh- 
lingen being close to the Swiss frontier, the soldiers were 
posted there to arrest fugitives escaping from Baden. 
We therefore stopped at Bonndorf. Here no one spoke 
French, and we were greatly amused at our own per- 
plexity in endeavoring to explain the smallest of our 
wants. Our driver spoke nothing but a German patois, 
and could not help us. The inn was poor enough, the 
beds bad, and our supper wretched ; but what cared 
we ? We were close to Switzerland, that was enough. 
So, at five in the morning we were off, and soon passed 
the Castle of Stuhlingen, and descended by a winding 
road to the town, which lay beneath. Here, as we ex- 
pected, we were stopped by Prussian soldiers who pre- 
tended to examine our passports ; but it was so evident 
that they could not read them, that we laughed in their 
faces, and rode on. Directly after, on passing a small 
stream, the driver told us that we were in Switzerland; 
on which announcement we all stood up in the open 
carriage, and waving our hats, gave three cheers; partly 
on account of what was before us, and partly because 
we were leaving behind us the Prussian soldiers. 

We reached the Falls of the Rhine just below 
Schaffhausen, at nine o'clock, and stopped at the 
'Hotel Weber,' which stands on the top of the right 
bank just below the falls, in full view of them, like 
the Clifton House at Niagara. It is unjust to Europe, 
to compare its best fall (as this is said to be) with our 
great cataract; nevertheless, the Falls of the Rhine 
are much like a small Niagara. The river here tum- 
10 



146 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

bles over a ridge of old volcanic rocks ; the falls are 
about sixty feet in height, with an additional fall of 
forty more in rapids. It is divided, as at Niagara, by 
a large rocky island into two falls, and by a smaller 
island into two smaller ones. The best and highest 
fall resembles the great Horse-shoe Cataract ; and 
over it, like a Table Rock, hangs an artificial platform, 
where you get a sense of the might and rage of the 
waters. We crossed in a small boat from the Hotel 
Weber to this side, where is an old castle which has 
been bought by an artist named Bleuler, and fitted up 
for company. From different positions around this 
castle, which is called Schlosslaufen, you obtain the 
best views of the fall. This Mr. Bleuler has certainly 
chosen a picturesque residence ; for his castle hangs 
directly over the maddest tumult of the cataract. 
Nevertheless, it is annoying at such a scene of gran- 
deur to have your attention invited from the sublimest 
work of nature to engravings, shells, minerals, stuffed 
birds, and ice-cream. Therefore, leaving Mr. Bleuler 
and his modernized castle, we recrossed the river, and 
then were rowed in the boat to the Rocky Island, be- 
tween the two falls. Climbing through the tangled 
vines and bushes to its narrow summit, we stretched 
ourselves on the ground, and enjoyed without abate- 
ment the uproar around us. The water is of a rich 
bluish green, not an emerald green, like Niagara. 
Leaving the Rhine Fall, and the Hotel Weber, at one 
P. M. of an extremely hot day, (though it was the first 
of September,) the road ascended gradually to upland 
meadows, apparently the interval deposit of some 
large lake or river. After crossing the Rhine at 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 147 

Eglisau, the road again ascended to some high table- 
land, where we got our first view of the high Alps. 
By an irresistible impulse we rose in the carriage and 
gave three cheers in their honor. There they lay ex- 
quisitely delicate in outline, sharply, though faintly, 
traced against the sky. Their snowy summits glitter- 
ing in the sunset, rose pile beyond pile, massed and 
clustered in pyramids and cones, looking almost trans- 
parent, as though next moment they might all melt 
into the clouds. These were the high Alps of the 
Bernese Oberland,the inaccessible Alps which cluster 
round the Jungfrau. They were distant in a direct 
line (measured on Keller's very accurate map) seventy- 
five miles. 

We were now in the Canton Zurich, a Protestant 
canton, where the houses and the people reminded us 
of Massachusetts. The land was well cultivated, the 
houses neat, and the people seemed decidedly superior 
to those we had seen before ; their faces were intelli- 
gent and handsome. 

Just after we caught our view of the Alps, we 
reached the little town called Beulach, and stopped 
at the Poste Inn. Before we were aware of it, to 
our surprise, a pretty Swiss girl, who ran out of 
the house, had opened the carriage door, and pulled 
down the steps. We made many apologies in English, 
French, and German, confusedly mixed together, for 
having allowed this ; but she, with sweet and winning 
words, invited us in. The innkeeper spoke a little 
French, she only German; but so ready and gracious 
was she, so ready to be entertained by our poor Ger- 
man, and to help us to a word when we wanted it, 



148 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

that we much preferred ordering our coffee and bread 
of her. She was a charming specimen of a Zurich 
girl. Presently she told us she was the landlord's 
wife, and that they had been married three weeks ; 
which turned the Madclien into a Fran. It was pleas- 
ant to see how the essential secret of fascination is the 
same every where. In a different rank of life, I have 
known one or two persons who possessed the same 
charm. But this German girl in humble life, with 
little beauty and no culture, equalled them in this ex- 
traordinary power. And why ? Because she had 
that overflowing sensibility and sympathy, which inter- 
ested her in the present moment and present persons ; 
because the impulse of life was so full and fresh ; be- 
cause, like a child, the soul went perfectly into every 
word and act. She seemed so glad to talk with us, 
to do every thing for us ; she ran up with outspread 
hands so gracefully, to ask her questions, blushing and 
hiding her face on her husband's breast when she 
made some mistake in pronouncing an English word, 
that we were all quite captivated. Her husband enjoyed 
her triumph, for proud was he of his tittle wife ; and when 
we asked him if he would go to America, he called 
her and said — 'Ma femme peut-etre.' She with many 
graceful gestures endeavored to explain that she was 
afraid of the ocean ; and so we talked about other 
things — about her church and preacher, asking if he 
was a good one ? ' Ah nein, 1 she replied, very mourn- 
fully. c Sehr alt.' ' Is he old ? ' ' Nein,' said she, but 
presently added, l Er spricht nicht zum Herzen.' ' He 
does not speak to the heart,' pressing both her hands 
upon that active little organ. So we bade the good 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 149 

people farewell, parting with many signs of good-will 
on both sides, and rejoicing that we had taken no 
courier, who would have prevented us from having 
any of this intercourse with the people of the coun- 
try. 1 

Riding down the hills, we reached Zurich at night- 
fall. It was Saturday night, and we proposed to pass 
the Sunday in this place. We stopped at the Hotel 
Baur, a noble inn of vast size, and well kept. Here 
we found Galagnani's English newspaper, and some 
good black tea, neither of which we had met with 
since leaving Paris. After walking out to look at the 
town and the lake by moonlight, we went to our com- 
fortable chambers, and slept soundly through our first 
night in Switzerland. 



It is the custom in Switzerland, and various parts of 
Germany, for the first service in Protestant churches 
to take place early in the morning. At eight o'clock 
we heard the bells of Zwingle's Cathedral ringing for 
church, and I went with Mr. C. to attend service there. 
It is an old-fashioned building, with large stone columns 

1 Many people engage a courier to travel with them on the 
Continent. His business is to engage lodgings, hire voitures, 
look after the luggage, and pay the bills. A courier is, I am 
•satisfied, a great plague. He effectually prevents all social 
familiar intercourse between the traveller and the people ; he 
is very apt to scold with landlords and drivers about the bills, 
and so keep you in a perpetual quarrel ; he carries you only 
where he wishes to go himself, and prevents your acquir- 
ing the information which comes from attending to your own 
wants. 



150 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

and round arches in the interior. The minister stands 
in a very high pulpit, and the people sit on the most 
uncomfortable of wooden benches. The sermon was 
in German, and we could understand very little of it ; 
but the singing by the congregation was good, and, as 
we had a hymn-book, we could gather its meaning. In 
the afternoon I walked to an old bastion which has 
been fitted up as a garden and observatory, where the 
people were sitting and enjoying the beautiful view, 
which included the houses and gardens of Zurich, the 
lake, and the distant Alps of Glarus, Uri and Schwytz. 
It was about four in the afternoon, the sun was bright 
and warm, and the rich country in the neighborhood of 
Zurich looked very attractive. I therefore walked with 
one of our party about four miles among the green 
pastures, orchards, and farm-houses, to the top of a 
hill called the Uetliberg. It was higher than we 
thought, and sharp climbing, and when we reached 
the summit, the sun was set, and we could see nothing. 
On the top stands a small pleasure-house, where one 
can procure a cup of coffee. In climbing up to it, 1 
observed the remains of the foundation of some larger 
building, which probably was the old castle which was 
attacked and taken by Rodolph of Hapsburg, in the 
middle of the thirteenth century. We came down the 
steep ravine path after dark, but in a fine moon-light. 
On Monday morning, our party, which consisted of 
four gentlemen, set out from Zurich for a pedestrian 
tour of a week, through the Bernese Oberland. We 
sent our baggage by the mail-coach to Interlachen, 
which we intended to reach by the following Sunday, 
keeping with us only what was absolutely necessary. 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 151 

Our plan was, to go first to Mount Rigi, then to Lu- 
cerne, then up the Lake of Lucerne to Fluellen, and 
by the St. Gothard route to Hospital ; from Hospital 
we meant to go over the Furca to Grimsel ; from 
Grimsel to Meyringen ; from Meyringen to Grindel- 
wald ; and from Grindelwald, over the Wengern Alp 
by Lauterbrunnen, to Interlachen, to pass the Sunday ; 
from Interlachen we proposed to go by Kandersteg and 
the Gemmi Pass, into the Canton Vallais to Martigny, 
and across from there into the Valley of Chamounix. 
To this plan we adhered, and were satisfied that it 
could not have been improved. It led us during a 
fortnight through the most striking scenery of Swit- 
zerland, and we found, at the end of the fortnight, that 
we had walked more than two hundred miles. 

We left Zurich on a little steamer, which carried us 
up the lake a few miles to the town of Horgen. Here, 
to our surprise, we took an omnibus like those which 
run through the streets of New York, in which to 
ride over the ridge of Mount Albis ; but the macad- 
amized road is so good, and the grades so well 
arranged, that the ascent was easy enough. De- 
scending, we soon reached the little town of Zug, 
on the borders of Lake Zug. From there the road 
ran close to the lake, along the foot of Rossberg to 
the town of Arth, at the other end, which is at the foot 
of Mount Rigi. Houses stand along this road, built 
Swiss fashion, with small roofs or pent-houses over 
each row of windows, and covered down their ^ides 
and front with little shingles cut in a semicircular 
form, which look like scale-armor, giving the house 
the aspect of a mailed warrior. We reached Arth at 



152 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

one o'clock, dined, and having purchased each an 
alpen stock, or long staff with an iron spike at one 
end, and a chamois horn at the other, began the ascent 
of Rigi. We took these staffs with us through Swit- 
zerland, and found them very useful in climbing moun- 
tains, and still more in descending. In fact, they did 
duty (as in the riddle of the Sphynx) as a third leg, 
and enabled us to relieve our wearied limbs not a little. 
The ascent of Rigi is steep and tiresome. It is about 
seven miles up to the top, and, as the day was very 
hot, it was almost sundown when we reached the 
summit. The path, part of the way, went up by steep 
ravines, and part of the way over broad, bare shoulders 
of the mountain, from which we had fine views. We had 
a guide with us, by name Melchior, who belonged to 
Meyringen, and whom we had found on the steamer on 
Lake Zurich. He was on his way home, and we engag- 
ed him for six days, at five francs a day. Melchior of 
Wiesenflue was a pretty good fellow, though rather fond 
of his bottle of wine and his glass of kirchenwasser ; 
he asked leave to take with him a friend, a young man 
named Fritz, who was educating himself to be a guide, 
and who went for the sake of learning the way. Young 
Fritz made himself very useful by carrying our cloaks 
when Melchior was tired ; and was more refined and 
better educated than the other, so that we were glad to 
have him with us. 

On arriving at the culm or summit of Mount Rigi, 
we were so fortunate as to get good rooms at the hotel. 
The white, tempestuous looking clouds were drifting 
up from below, and the glimpses of lakes and moun- 
tains, which we caught between them, were soon 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 153 

obscured. So we went into the hotel, where were 
collected, in the lighted dining-room, some sixty or 
seventy guests. 

Long before sunset, the signs of an approaching 
storm had been quite apparent. The clouds had been 
mustering in the different parts of the sky, and from 
this lofty elevation we could see, far and near, thin 
dark masses swelling and rolling up higher and higher 
every moment. While the company were dining, or 
taking tea, in the salle-a-manger, the storm broke. 
Torrents of rain fell, the wind howled fearfully around 
the house, vivid flashes of lightning and heavy thunder 
indicated the violence of the tempest. Some of us 
tried again and again to go out and see this tumult of 
the elements, but the moment the front door was 
opened the wind and rain came in so furiously, that we 
thought it best to relinquish the attempt; and indeed it 
required the strength of one or two men to shut the 
door again. Still unwilling to relinquish the oppor- 
tunity of seeing this magnificent scene, an opportunity 
which I knew was never to return, I wrapped around 
me my large shepherd's plaid, and found my way out 
of the house by the kitchen-door, which was on the 
leeward side of the building, and protected a little from 
the gusts. Then I stumbled on, till I found a little path 
which led up a distance of a few rods to the summit. 
Here the scene was sublime beyond conception. At 
each flash of lightning the whole panorama below 
would leap out of the darkness, and for a moment, the 
mountains around, Rossberg, and xMount Pilate, became 
distinctly visible. Especially, and this was the most 
striking feature of the scene, the two great lakes 



154 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

lying just at the foot of Mount Rigi, Lake Zng and the 
bays of Lake Lucerne, came out like two enormous 
mirrors reflecting every flash of lightning. Every 
bay, every little island, even every tree overhanging 
the shore, was sharply marked at each successive 
flash. It seemed as if the storm king was taking the 
opportunity of seeing himself at full length in these 
great looking-glasses. The lightning ran along in keen 
continuous bolts through the clouds like a fiery serpent, 
seemingly on a level with the eye. The dark and 
ragged peaks of Mount Pilate from the opposite side of 
Lake Lucerne, reflected each peal of thunder, as the 
lakes reflected the lightning. It was a chaos of sounds; 
4 every mountain ' found its tongue, and contributed its 
special note to the pealing chorus. At intervals, as the 
nearer tumult died away, there came a more silvery 
echo from the high Alps at the south, whose summits, 
icy clear, rose high above these tempest-clouds. A 
thunder-storm in the night-time is always superb — a 
thunder-storm among the mountains is equal to half a 
dozen any where else ; but to witness a thunder-storm 
from a peak a mile high, in the night-time, surrounded 
by lakes and mountains, is one of the experiences of 
a life. 

The next morning we had another benefit from the 
thunder-gust, in that it had cleared the sky, and given 
us a sunrise free from clouds and mists; a thing which 
seldom happens on Mount Rigi. Three times out of four, 
those who climb the mountain to see the sunset and the 
sunrise, see neither the one nor the other. The custom 
here is, to blow a horn at break of day, and then the 
tired travellers rouse themselves as well as they can, 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 155 

and go out shivering into the cold to see a collection of 
clouds and vapors. A fine of a franc is imposed on 
every one who carries out his blanket or comforter; 
which does not prevent this custom, but rather seems 
to suggest its expediency. The day dawned in cloud- 
less splendor, and we looked far away in every direc- 
tion over the grandest view in Europe, and therefore 
in the world. Elsewhere, it is possible, there may be 
wilder scenery, but nowhere I imagine can there be 
such a combination as here. You see towns and 
villages scattered in every direction ; richly cultivated 
fields and orchards, the magnificent lakes, with their 
branching bays, Rossberg on one side, with the bare 
sloping strata of rock from which, on one fearful day, 
slid the masses of earth which overwhelmed three 
Alpine villages; Mount Pilate on another side, with all 
its traditions and superstitions clustered around it; just 
below you the Bay of Kussnacht, and the places made 
memorable by the exploits of William Tell. On the 
other side, the great peaks of bare granite pyramids of 
nature's handiwork, which rise behind the town of 
Schwytz ; l and yet further, are the snow-covered 
peaks of the Oberland, Titlis, the Jungfrau, the Finster- 
aarhorn, the Schreckhorn, the Waldhorn, and Eigher, 
which tower to the height of eleven and twelve thousand 
feet, fair and pure in their eternal snow. One of the 
most peculiar features to me in this scenery, were the 
shadows of the mountains themselves. The shadow of 
Mt. Rossberg stretched, purple and misty, across Lake 

1 Over the cradle of Swiss liberty and the first battle-field of 
freedom. 



156 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

Zug; and the shadow of Rigi lay across Lake Lucerne, 
and far beyond, till we could see its extremity many 
miles away near the horizon. Then as the sun rose, 
the shadow contracted, and came moving up closer to 
the base of the mountain. 

It seemed a pity to leave such a scene as this. How 
absurd to come so many thousand miles to see the 
grandest panorama in the world, and then go away 
again in an hour or two. But still it was necessary to 
go, and after lingering as long as possible we strapped 
our knapsacks on our shoulders, and began to descend 
with rapid steps toward the town of Kussnacht. It is 
usual for travellers who ascend from Arth, and are 
going to Lucerne, to descend to Weggis in order to 
meet the steamboat. We did not do so, for two reasons; 
first, that we might stay till nine or ten o'clock on Rigi, 
and have a longer view ; and secondly, because we 
preferred to be rowed from Kussnacht to Lucerne, in 
one of the lake boats. Nothing could be more charm- 
ing than this descent in the fresh bright morning, with 
the magnificent prospect before us, changing at every 
step and opening out new beauties. As we approached 
Kussnacht, we came to the lane where Tell is stated to 
have shot, with his cross-bow, the tyrant Gessler, and 
where stands a small chapel built to commemorate that 
event. At Kussnacht we found a boat and three men 
to row it, in which we had a very pleasant row to 
Lucerne, which we reached about one o'clock. Here 
we had merely time to go and see the famous lion of 
Thorwaldsen, just outside of one of the gates of the 
city. This lion is carved on the bare face of a perpen- 
dicular rock, in honor of the Swiss who were killed at 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 157 

the Tuilleries defending Louis XVI. Above it are 
written the words, 

HELVETIONUM FIDEI AC VIRTUTI. 

Lucerne is a quiet comfortable little town with all 
social, literary and artistic luxuries, and in full view of 
noble mountains and snowy glaciers. On the right, 
looking down the lake, rises Mount Pilate, whose 
craggy tops, bare of all vegetation, pierce the sky like 
sharp spears. 1 

At two o'clock of this day of wonders, we set sail a 
second time on the lake, but now in the steamer, 
through what Sir James Mackintosh pronounces the 
finest scenery in the world. We sailed around the 
foot of Rigi, touched at Weggis a*nd at the port of 
Schwytz, and saw the bare, rocky pyramids, called the 
Mitres, rising behind the town. We passed Grutli, 
where the three Swiss confederates took the oath of 
freedom, and, lastly, sailed up the extraordinary Bay 
of Uri, where mountains descend on all sides, sheer 
into the water, so that not even a foot-path can be 
formed along the margin of the lake. Here we saw 
the place where Tell jumped ashore, after steering 

1 There is said to be a singular colossal statue in a cave in 
Mount Pilate. It is inaccessible and can be seen only from one 
point. How it could have been placed there, no one can tell, 
for no one has ever been able to enter the cave, which is on the 
bare face of the precipice. Coxe's Switzerland, (Vol. I., page 
260.) Murray says it was reached in 1814 by a chamois 
hunter, at the risk of his life, and that he asserted it was only 
a rock which had been rounded into this form by natural 
causes. 



158 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

Gessler's boat up to it in the storm. A little chapel 
stands on the spot, which was built only thirty years 
after TelPs death, and at the dedication of which 
many persons were present who had known him when 
alive. At Fluellen we disembarked at the commence- 
ment of the St. Gothard route. There we took a 
voiture for twelve miles on to Amsteg. We passed 
through Altdorf and the market-place there, where, 
according to the legend, Tell shot the arrow at the 
apple on his son's head. The places where each stood 
are marked by statues. We thought it necessary, if 
we were to reach Interlachen by Saturday night, to go 
still further this evening; so, after supper, we told 
Mclchior, our guide, that we should walk twelve miles 
further that evening, to Wesen. But Melchior had 
evidently no intention of going ; he had found some 
friends, and was having a very merry time over his 
bottle of wine. ' We must give him a lesson,' said 
Mr. C. : ' let us take all our baggage ourselves, and 
push on.' So we did ; and in half an hour Melchior 
came running after us, somewhat surprised, for he 
evidently had supposed that we must wait till he was 
ready to carry our knapsacks. He seldom tried to 
loiter after this. 

I shall not soon forget this evening's walk to Wesen. 
The road is a romantic way, ever climbing higher and 
higher by the side of the rushing, tumultuous Reuss. 
Lofty mountains shut us in, their sides dark in the 
night, their summits glittering beneath the rising moon. 
We all walked on in silence, feeling that the best way 
to enjoy such a scene was to talk about it as little as 
possible. At last, about eleven o'clock, we reached 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 159 

the town of Wescn, with its little chapel perched on 
the top of a steep rock, by the rise of the road. The 
guides and one of our company had gone forward, 
and waked up the people in the little inn, and when 
we arrived we found very comfortable rooms provided 
for us. Melchior, in order to keep us from leaving 
Amsteg, had told us that the inn at Wesen was poor; 
but here, and almost in every other place where we 
stopped at a common Swiss inn, we found very fair 
accommodation, especially if we had previously con- 
sulted 4 The infallible Murray.' 

Leaving Wesen at eight o'clock in the morning, we 
walked ten miles to Hospital, near the summit of the 
St. Gothard Pass. The road this morning went through 
some of the most extraordinary scenery in Switzer- 
land. The rocks rose almost perpendicularly from the 
side of the foaming river, and our road clung to their 
sides wherever a few feet of rock could be found for 
it to rest upon, but jumping across the stream, back- 
ward and forward, on little stone bridges, in order to 
take advantage of the levels on either side. In some 
places it was cut out of the solid rock, in other places 
arched over to protect travellers from the winter ava- 
lanches. At one point it goes on a little bridge over 
an abyss, into which the roaring stream falls in foam 
and thunder; again, there is a gallery or tunnel through 
the mountain itself, after passing which, the road finally 
emerges into a little valley, with a piece of meadow 
and a few trees. This is at Andermatt, a mile or two 
before reaching Hospital. From Hospital we went 
four miles further to a place called Realp, where 
Goethe had stopped before when on his way to Italy. 



160 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

The place is no larger now than it was then, consist- 
ing of two houses ; one an inn, the other a hospice, 
which is an inn kept by monks, where you may pay 
just what you choose. Bare, desolate hills surround 
this spot, and as we reached it, it began to rain ; so 
we stopt at the inn, and in an hour or so the rain 
ceased. Bat the weather still looked threatening, and 
Melchior insisted that we were to have an l orage.' 
But in Melchior's predictions we had no assured faith ; 
so the landlord came to his assistance, and predicted 
a bad night. He told us, — what indeed we knew 
from Murray, — that we had a steep mountain to cross, 
and no shelter nearer than twelve miles. c Messieurs,' 
said he, with a very foreboding countenance, 'il n'est 
pas sage.' So, though very reluctant to stop, and 
having little confidence in an innkeeper's predictions 
concerning the weather, we finally decided to remain, 
rest ourselves, and write up our journals and letters. 



CHAPTER VII. 

SWITZERLAND. BERNESE OBERLAND. 

The next morning, Thursday, September 6, we left 
Realp at a little after five, taking with us our breakfast 
to eat on the way; for our purpose was to make a long 
day's journey, going, if possible, as far as Meyringen. 

From Realp, a foot-path carries you up over steep 
bare hills, higher and higher, toward the Furca Pass. 
This word Furca frequently occurs in Switzerland, 
wherever two high peaks leave an opening between 
them, like a fork. This mountain separates the sources 
of the Reuss from those of the Rhone. The Reuss, 
after passing through Lake Lucerne, unites with the 
Aar and the Limmat, shortly before they enter the 
Rhine below Eglisau. In this central region several 
rivers take their rise. The Tesino, which empties into 
the Lago Maggiore and Gulf of Venice, rises just to 
the south ; the Reuss in the east, and the Rhone com- 
mences its course from the great glacier just below 
the Furca. On reaching the summit of the Furca 
Pass, we had a fine view of some of the loftiest peaks 
of the Oberland. We were now very near the 
Schreckhorn or Peak of Terror, the Wetterhorn or 
Peak of Storms, and the Finsteraarhorn or Dark Peak 
11 



162 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

of the Aar. These high, sharp summits, most of them 
inaccessible to human feet, rise from the midst of a 
great wilderness of ice, out of which descend several 
glaciers. Coming down this pass, which was the high- 
est spot we had yet reached, being eight thousand 
three hundred feet above the sea, we came to the great 
glacier of the Rhone, which is one of the finest in 
Switzerland. It comes down from the lofty mountains, 
filling a vast ravine between them, and resembling a 
cataract three or four times as large as that of Niagara, 
frozen in the midst of its fall, and 

1 Stopt at once amid its maddest plunge.' x 

We descended upon this glacier, and walked for some 
distance upon it. The surface was like snow half 
melted, and then frozen again. Indeed, glaciers are 
throughout not solid, but semi-fluid, or rather viscous, 
according to the observations of Prof. Forbes, made 
with great care upon the Mer-de-Glace, at Chamouni. 
They move forward at the rate of one or two feet per 
diem. By taking observations from some fixed object 
by the side of a glacier to some object, like a block -of 
stone, upon its surface, this rate of motion was ascer- 
tained. The lower part of the glacier where it termi- 
nates in the valley, does not, however, necessarily par- 
take of this onward movement ; for after reaching a 

1 The best description of a glacier is by Coleridge : — 

1 Ye ice-falls ! Ye that from the mountain's brow 
Adown enormous ravines slope amain, — 
Torrents methinks, which heard a mighty voice, 
And stopt at once amid their maddest plunge ; 
Motionless torrents, silent cataracts,' &c. &c. 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 163 

certain point, it melts as rapidly as it advances. Dur- 
ing some seasons, it may push onward further into the 
valley, then during other seasons recede again ; mark- 
ing the distance it has advanced by the terminal mor- 
raines, or heaps of stones, which it has deposited. 
These morraines are one of the striking features of a 
glacier, and are themselves indications of its onward 
movement. Masses of rock, detached by the frost 
above, are brought down on the glacier, and thrown 
from it at its sides, as a river leaves logs and drift- 
wood along its banks. Or else the stones are carried 
down into the valley, and left at the extremity of the 
glacier. In the first instance, they are called lateral 
morraines ; in the other, terminal morraines. Where 
two glaciers unite, they join their lateral morraines at 
the point of union, and carry the stones down in the 
middle, forming a central morraine. As you approach 
a glacier, you first come to this lateral morraine, form- 
ing a ridge of rocks, piled one on the other, and some- 
times thirty or forty feet in height, over which you 
must scramble before you can get upon the glacier. 
But perhaps the most extraordinary fact concerning 
the glaciers, relates to holes or wells, which are found 
here and there upon their surface, caused by the water 
on the surface, where the ice is melted by the sun or 
rain. This water runs through various channels to 
these wells, called moulins, into which it falls some- 
times to a great depth. The curious fact concerning 
the moulins is, that while the whole glacier is moving 
forward, carrying with it even rocks which weigh 
many tons, these moulins remain permanently in the 
same places. The ice through which the hole sinks, 



164 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

moves on, but the hole remains in the same place. 
This phenomenon is explained by the analogy of the 
little whirlpools and ripples which we see on the sur- 
face of running water. The water moves, but the 
whirlpool, or ripple, remains in the same place. We 
have a moving substance, and a stationary form. In 
some parts of the glaciers there are cracks, crevices, 
and fissures, and in some places the surface is thrown 
up into sharp pyramids and broken fragments, so as to 
make it difficult or impossible to cross it. These fis- 
sures and ruptures in the ice are occasioned by the 
pressure of the banks on either side. When the ravine, 
through which the glacier is moving onward, becomes 
narrow, the ice is crushed together and forced up- 
wards, and the surface is necessarily broken. The 
same thing also occurs when there is a sudden de- 
scent ; and in both these cases the analogy with run- 
ning water is preserved, and a proof given of the 
semi-fluid character of the glacier. 

This glacier of the Rhone, being the first we had 
seen, was very interesting. We then began the ascent 
of the hill on the opposite side, on our way to the 
Grimsel. This hill is called the Meenwand or Meadow- 
wall, and was indeed almost as steep as a wall. The 
sun was blazing upon us, and we found it the hardest 
climbing any where in Switzerland ; but, as soon as 
we reached the summit, the invigorating Alpine air 
refreshed us immediately, and we pushed on over bare, 
black rocks by a small pond, which has neither inlet 
nor outlet, and is called the ' Sea of the Dead,' on 
account of some fight which occurred near by, after 
which the dead bodies were thrown into this water. 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 165 

From the summit of this pass, which was about two 
thousand feet above the valley we had just left, we 
descended into the Valley of Grimsel, and a suffi- 
ciently grim and terrible site it was. It is a narrow 
ravine, wholly surrounded with steep, bare, black pre- 
cipices of stone, all as desolate and savage as one can 
imagine. There is but one house here, the Hospice, 
the walls of which are of stone and three feet thick, 
to protect it from the winter avalanches. The family 
who keep the Hospice, however, do not remain here in 
the winter, but return to Meyringen, which is their 
home. The river Aar, here a small stream, runs 
through this valley, taking its source in two glaciers a 
short distance above. The family who keep this house 
are intelligent, and one of the ladies the prettiest 
woman we saw in Switzerland. She was well ac- 
quainted with Agassiz and Desor, who were here 
frequently while examining the glaciers of the Aar, 
and she inquired particularly concerning the former. 
Although every thing which is used in this house, 
even to the fuel, has to be brought on the backs of 
mules some ten or twelve miles or more, we found 
every thing excellent. Arriving here at twelve, we 
left at half after three, and walked to Guttinnen, which 
was half way to Meyringen, making the day's walk 
about thirty miles, in which was included also the 
ascent and descent of the two mountains. On our 
way we saw the Falls of the Aar, at Handeck. The 
river here leaps headlong down a deep chasm, and at 
the same place another stream of less size joins it, 
both plunging together into the same abyss ; remind- 
ing me of nothing so much, as of two children rolling 



166 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

over each other down hill in their play. We stopped 
to-night at a Swiss cottage inn, which was neat and 
well kept. 

Leaving Guttinnen on Friday, at five in the morning, 
we walked ten miles to Meyringen before breakfast. 
Our mule-path still wound along the side of the Aar, 
which it had followed since we left Grimsel, and was 
overhung with steep rocks, the roots of the lofty moun- 
tains, between which the impetuous stream finds its 
way. Before reaching Meyringen, we stopped to ad- 
mire one or two valleys, sweet in themselves, and 
more sweet from the contrast with the previous barren- 
ness and desolation. Here were meadows, with men 
at work among the new-mown hay, and small gardens 
by the side of the neat Swiss cottages. We met a 
good-looking man, with an intellectual face, whom the 
guide told us was the pastor of one of these little com- 
munities. It seemed to me that one might pass a very 
pleasant life in the pleasant vales of Hash, surrounded 
by the sublimest scenes of nature, and among her 
gentlest. 

Instead of stopping at Meyringen, we crossed to 
the other side of the valley, to the baths of Reichen- 
bach, where are mineral springs and a good hotel. 
Here, to my satisfaction, I found a douche-bath, and 
after the long walk in the hot morning it was suffi- 
ciently refreshing. To those unacquainted with the 
mysteries of the water cure, I may say that a douche 
is a stream of cold water, the size of one's arm or 
smaller, falling on your back and limbs from a height 
of twelve to twenty feet. The reaction from this bath 
is very great. Though it seems and is a vigorous 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 167 

application, and makes a part of what is technically 
called the ' heroic system ' in the water cure, it is in 
reality not so dangerous as the plunge-baths, which 
people fear much less. As only a small part of the 
body receives the shock of the water at one time, the 
effect is not to chill the whole system ; and the reac- 
tion, which brings the blood to the service; is more 
easily obtained. 

We were here detained awhile by a party of English 
gentlemen and ladies, who are just setting out. from 
the hotel, and who received the whole attention of the 
landlord and servants. Here we had occasion to notice 
the difference between the manners of the English at 
home and abroad. In England I found every one dis- 
posed to enter into conversation ; but the English on 
the continent are a taciturn race. The English whom 
you meet regard you with suspicion, and it is far from 
their thoughts to say a pleasant word, or vouchsafe a 
kindly look to their fellow-travellers. When they 
meet you, they usually look at the ground, and seem 
engaged in botanical or mineralogical researches. 
With the French and Germans it is quite another 
thing. The English are civil and cold; the Germans, 
sociable but rude ; the French alone are both courteous 
and refined. But I am disposed to think that Ameri- 
cans know how to travel quite as well as the people 
of either nation ; at least, the Americans we met in 
Europe had none of the suspicious manner of the 
English, for the simple reason that they feel abun- 
dantly able to take care of themselves, and are afraid 
of nothing. In fact, Americans are by nature a trav- 
elling nation, and are most at home when they are 



168 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

away from home. They are, beside, naturally sociable 
and inquisitive, and, more than any other people, per- 
haps, know how to adapt themselves to new customs 
and conditions of society. Like the Indians, from 
whom they may have learned it, they are never aston- 
ished at any thing. A genuine American girl, taken 
from the middle of Kentucky, would be not at all em- 
barrassed by an introduction to Queen Victoria, and 
would probably acquit herself to her own satisfaction 
and that of every one else. The annoyances of inns, 
the knavery of guides and landlords, which drive an 
Englishman frantic, rather amuse an American ; he 
sets it all down as so much information gained, and, 
knowing that it cannot be helped, makes the best of 
it. The American intellect, likewise, is naturally 
active, and an American understands sooner than most 
persons what is expected, and what is proper to be 
done in each situation. 

So much for the reflections occasioned by the be- 
havior of the English party at Reichenbach. Like 
English travellers generally, they were laden with 
luggage. The horses they rode were weighed down 
and half concealed with carpet-bags, valises, umbrel- 
las, surtouts, and mackintoshes ; while from the pockets 
of their shooting-jackets protruded telescopes, and the 
red covers of the inevitable Murray. One or two guides 
followed, leading other horses equally laden with bun- 
dles and baskets. The Romans, I thought, as I looked 
at all their apparatus, did well to call baggage impedi- 
menta. A traveller soon learns that conveniences are 
often very inconvenient. A young traveller has his 
trunk and carpet-bag, his valise and hat-box, but he 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 



169 



learns to carry less and less, until sometimes he arrives 
at the point of taking nothing but what he can put in 
his pocket. For ourselves, in this walk among the 
Alps, we found the greatest advantage in having no- 
thing but what was absolutely necessary. Great coats, 
and those warm ones, you must take ; for while the 
valleys are very warm, the mountain-tops and high 
passes are always cold. A change of under-clothes is 
also necessary; the English mackintosh surtout is a 
convenient thing, being water-tight, and also very 
light ; but we found that, beside the cloaks and um- 
brellas which the guides carried, two knapsacks would 
contain all that was necessary for the use of our party 
of four persons during the week. To be sure, we 
were very glad to find our carpet-begs waiting for us 
on Saturday night. 

Leaving the inn of Reichenbach at half past ten, we 
began to ascend the very steep hill behind, on our way 
over the Scheideck to Grindenwald. After mounting 
awhile, we came to the Falls of Reichenbach. The 
water here falls an immense distance, and as you look 
up to it from below, seems reluctant to take the leap. 
In this it is quite a contrast to the falls at Handeck. 
There the two streams leap joyfully together in wild 
excitement into the deep gulf below. Here the water 
clings to the rock and slides off, and does not jump at 
all. Climbing still higher, we passed on among five 
green fields, and woods to Rosenlaui, where we turn- 
ed aside to see the glacier, which is one of the most 
beautiful in Switzerland on account of the character 
of the ice, which is pure blue. We went into a cleft 
or cave within the glacier, and it seemed like transpa- 



170 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

rent sapphire. Such a color I never saw ; the blue 
light gave a ghastly character to our faces. 

After leaving the glacier, the weather which had been 
so beautiful in the morning grew cloudy, and presently 
it began to rain. We clustered together under a wide- 
spreading tree, and wrapping our cloaks around us, 
placed our backs against the trunk, and spent half an 
hour either in dreams or in waking dreams. Then the 
rain held up, and on we went. Soon we passed out of 
the forest, rising along the sides of the great Scheideck, 
with the vaster forms of the highest Alpine peaks on our 
left. So steep were these peaks, that neither earth nor 
snow rested on their sides, but all was bare, dark granite. 
These two mountains were* the Wellhorn and the Wet- 
terhorn, and between them came down the glacier of 
Schwarzwald. Here for the first time we heard ava- 
lanches. So much does the echo of the avalanche re- 
semble thunder, that we thought a storm was coming on 
till the guide told us that the noise was occasioned by 
avalanches. Presently came a louder roar, and the 
guide pointing to the side of the mountain, said, ' Look! 
there is the avalanche ; ' we looked, and at first saw 
nothing, for we expected a large part of the mountain 
would be covered with the falling snow. To our sur- 
prise, we at last discovered the. avalanche in a small 
white thread, which looked in the distance like the 
falls of a mountain stream. This white thread we 
presently saw reappear further down the mountain, as 
the snow fell from rock to rock. The fact was, that 
the clear Alpine air had deceived us altogether as to 
our distance from the mountain, and what seemed to 
us like a small stream, a short distance off, was in fact 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 171 

a mass of ice thousands of tons in weight, two or three 
miles away from us. The distance which had so di- 
minished the size of the avalanche to the eye had 
multiplied its sound to the ear, by numerous reverbera- 
tions. But it was some time before we could realize 
that these thunders were occasioned by a cause so 
apparently trivial. 

A summer avalanche among the Alps is a very 
different thing from a winter avalanche. Winter 
avalanches are occasioned by accumulations of snow, 
which slide down, where the mountains are steep, into 
the valley. These occur in the winter, when the snow 
is falling, and in the spring when it begins to melt, 
and grows more compact and less tenacious of its 
position. These snow avalanches often fall upon the 
traveller's path, and are very dangerous ; but the sum- 
mer avalanches are of ice, being in fact masses of the 
glaciers, which are pushed on by the steady movement 
of the bcdy of the glacier till they overhang a preci- 
pice ; then they break and fall, and the powdered ice 
looks like snow in the distance. These avalanches 
are constant to particular spots, and are repeated at 
regular intervals as the glacier advances over the 
precipice. 

Passing further on, and higher up, we came to the 
shop of a dealer in echoes ; a boy about sixteen, who 
lived there by himself to entertain travellers by firing 
a small cannon, and by blowing through a wooden 
horn. The echoes are not remarkable, but we were 
struck with the boy's mode of life. Here he lived by 
himself, seeing no one all day but an occasional travel- 
ler, and sleeping at night in a little rough berth made 



172 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

of boards nailed up against the side of the cabin. 
Three or four stones in the corner of the house made 
his hearth, and the chimney was the cracks in the roof, 
through which the smoke easily found its way ; his 
furniture consisted of one settee, which was a board 
with four legs to it. This boy had lost his right hand 
by the bursting of his cannon on some previous occa- 
sion, but he still pursued the same business. 

It was six o'clock when we reached the top of the 
Scheideck, and our guides had made up their mind 
that we should stop for the night at the small inn on 
this summit; but we walked straight on, leaving them 
to sit in the inn as long as they might see fit. In a 
few minutes, however, they came running after us, as 
we passed on down the mountain, which is 6700 feet 
high, to Grindenwald. We reached the hotel after 
dark, and very well tired, for our day's work had been 
more than thirty miles, with an ascent of 5000 feet. 



On Saturday we closed this week's walking among 
the Alps with the finest scenery we had yet enjoyed. 
Commencing in the morning with the scenery of the 
Valley of Grindenwald, we saw at noon the Jungfrau 
from the Wengern Alp, and in the afternoon the ex- 
quisite beauty of the Valley of Lauterbrunnen. We 
were accompanied all day by Lord Byron's poetry, for 
we passed among the localities of Manfred ; and here, 
as in many other places, we felt the reaction of genius 
upon external nature. Sublimity and picturesqueness 
in the outward world awaken the poet's mind, and his 
mind throws a new charm around the external world. 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 173 

He leads us into the secrets of nature by his magical 
symbols, reveals things hidden to the common eye, 
and shows us not only what nature does, but what she 
means. And then, in return, the scenery and objects 
which awoke his genius, and suggested his thoughts, 
place us in communion with those feelings in the 
poet's soul, which lay behind his expressions. We 
look at the terrific cliffs, or the lovely vales, which he 
attempts to describe in his immortal verse, and we 
understand better what the thought or feeling was 
which he labored to express. In a word, the poet 
gives us an interior view of nature, and nature in turn 
gives us an interior view of .the poet. So, when look- 
ing at Windermere, I became better acquainted with 
Wordsworth ; on Lake Leman I grew more intimate 
with Rousseau ; and on the Wengern Alp and the Rhine 
I understood Byron. 

The Valley of Grindenwald is famous among Alpine 
valleys for that which constitutes their peculiar feature. 
In these deep vales, protected on all sides from sharp 
winds, and irrigated by a thousand streams, trees, 
grain, grass, and flowers grow luxuriantly in the neigh- 
borhood of utter barrenness and perpetual frost. The 
Valley of Grindenwald is very fertile ; every house has 
its garden, and its fruit-trees, and the grass is of the 
richest green. Meantime, three of the tallest peaks in 
Switzerland rise above it, and enclose a space of a 
hundred square miles of perpetual ice, never visited 
by the foot of man. From this icy ocean two laro-e 
glaciers descend into the valley itself, passing down 
among the orchards and grain, which grow only a 
few feet from these icy masses. 



174 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

Our way from Grindenwald up the Wengern Alp led 
us first through pine woods, and then over bare and 
bleak hill-sides. The heavens were filled with driving 
mist, which concealed appropriately enough the summit 
of the Peak of Storms, and the neighboring summits of 
the Giant and Monk. We passed a lady and gentleman 
on foot ; for ladies, though they usually ride on mules 
over these mountains, sometimes also find their advan- 
tage from walking. Mule-riding indeed, is almost as 
fatiguing as walking. Presently we reached a chalet, 
in front of which stood tables with delicious straw- 
berries and cream to refresh s the traveller. Straw- 
berries in September were a luxury which we gladly 
accepted. Presently it began to rain, and as we 
passed on we reached, higher up, another chalet where 
echoes were sold as on the Scheideck. After resting 
awhile, and finding that the rain would not stop, we 
went on once more by a slippery walk, and at last 
came to the summit. Alas ! the modest Jungfrau had 
veiled her head in clouds, and we saw nothing. We 
descended a mile to another chalet, where we stopped 
a couple of hours to dine, and to wait, if mayhap the 
clouds might drift from the face of the Mountain 
Maiden. Avalanches were falling continually down 
the sides opposite to us, and we could hear their 
thunder echoing among the ravines, and sometimes 
see their silvery threads winding their way down 
among the precipices. We ate our chamois-meat 
cutlets, and sat outside the chalet looking at the 
avalanches, and the terrible mountain-side opposite to 
us. The Wengern Alp on which we stood, is wholly 
barren and dreary. Between it and the Jungfrau, 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 175 

there is a deep abyss or ravine, on the other side of 
which, the mountain rises precipitous, rocky, and deso- 
late. No human being has ever scaled those cliffs; 
even the chamois-goat cannot climb their sides. For 
miles in length, and many thousand feet in height, 
these bare precipices of rock extend themselves ; then 
above them comes another vast region of snow and 
glaciers ; out of which rise peaks which in themselves 
are mountains, wrapt each in its dazzling sheet of 
snow. This region was hidden from us by mists, and 
after waiting as long as we dared, we reluctantly set 
off at four o'clock on our way down to Lauterbrunnen ; 
but we had only gone a few rods, when the sun came 
out, and the clouds began to drift away. One by one 
the magnificent snowy peaks of the Jungfrau emerged 
from the mists, pure and silvery as the turrets of the 
New Jerusalem. No one can tell, from the sight of 
other mountains, the peculiar impression which these 
serene, snow-covered heights, produce upon you. 
They are more like heaven than any other earthly 
thing. Away by themselves in the skies, untrodden 
by human foot, covered always with unsullied snow, 
dazzlingly bright under the noon-day sun, rosy red in 
the sunset, and pale in the moonlight. They affect 
the heart like a special revelation of celestial beauty. 
How could we turn our back upon this mountain — 
how leave it as soon as we had seen it ! It needed the 
guide's assurance that we should see it all the way to 
Interlachen, and there too, before we could resolve to 
go ; and all the way down we stopped to look back 
and see the glory of the Jungfrau behind us. So on 
through the warm sun we went, descending toward 



176 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

Lauterbrunnen, and in the course of half an hour's 
walk, passed from a region of utter barrenness to one 
of luxuriant vegetation. Thousands of feet below, lay 
the valley toward which we descended ; the path down 
was so steep that it went in zigzags, but on each side, 
nevertheless, were fields of grass. How they could 
ever be mown, and the hay raked, passed our wit to 
tell. One of my companions thought to make the way 
shorter by crossing these fields in a straight line, in- 
stead of keeping to the zigzag road ; but he soon found 
it too steep to justify his standing upright ; so he sat 
down, and attempted to slide down ; but this also was 
dangerous, and there he sat, holding on to the grass, 
uncertain what to do. By the aid of his alpenstock 
however, he reached the road, with this practical 
experience of the portentous faithfulness of Swiss agri- 
culture, which can make hay in places so steep that 
any body but a Swiss cannot stand upright. 

No where in the world, I think, can such a combina- 
tion of beauty be brought together as is to be found in 
the Valley of Lauterbrunnen. The name in German 
means, ' Nothing but brooks,' — and indicates one of 
its characteristics. The valley is a long and narrow 
one, extending from the foot of the Jungfrau, between 
precipitous and lofty hills, toward Interlachen. Over 
these perpendicular walls fall a thousand brooks, 
which hang like white threads or ribbons along their 
sides. The presence of so much water gives a pecu- 
liar character to the trees. Trees always conform to 
their situation. In forests all trees, no matter what 
may be their typical form, imitate the pine, and strain 
upward to the light in perpendicular shafts. By the 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 177 

side of running water, all trees imitate the willow and 
bend their limbs downward in bowery masses ; and 
wherever the atmosphere is charged with moisture, 
the trees expand their branches in a peculiarly indolent 
and luxurious manner difficult to describe, but easily 
recognised. Whenever, therefore, you see a tree with 
its limbs hanging downward like those of a willow, you 
may be pretty sure that there are brooks running below 
the surface, if not visible above it ; and when you see 
trees spreading themselves out in every direction, 
leaning their branches this way and that, like the trees 
which the Italian painters loved to draw in their picture 
of the Flight into Egypt, you may recognise the pres- 
ence of an excess of aqueous vapor in the air. 

Thus leaned and expanded the limbs of the walnuts, 
and beeches, and chestnuts, as we passed down toward 
Lauterbrunnen. High above us, the snowy Alps 
seemed to overhang the valley, though in fact miles 
away. Opposite to us waved in the wind the Staub- 
bach, made famous by Byron, who compares it to the 
waving tail of the White Horse in the Apocalypse. This 
mountain torrent, on reaching the edge of the precipice, 
falls eight hundred feet without touching the rock on 
its way into the valley ; before it has descended a third 
part of this distance, the resistance of the air has 
changed it into spray, and the wind drives it and 
bends it, this way and that, in snake-like curves. 1 We 

1 ' The torrent is in shape curving over the rock, like the tail 
of a white horse streaming in the wind, such as it might be 
conceived would be that of the " Pale Horse " on which Death is 
mounted in the Apocalypse. It is neither mist nor water, but 
a something between both ; its immense height (nine hundred 
12 



178 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

reached Lauterbrunnen at six o'clock, and I said to our 
guide Fritz, • We must call this, not Lauterbrunnen 
but Lauterschonheit' — that is to say, 'Nothing but 
beauty.' This fancy pleased our young guide, who 
enjoyed the beauties of scenery quite as much as we 
did ; and after this he always spoke of this place as 
the Valley of i Lauterschonheit.' 

There is, however, one serious drawback to living in 
such places, and that is the absence of sunshine. It 
must be many hours after the sun is up, before it can 
penetrate into this valley ; and long after it is sunset 
here, the snowy peaks of the Jungfrau are glittering in 
its splendor. I do not see why I may not propound a 
theory, as well as others, to explain the presence of 
goitre in these Alpine valleys. Some say that this 
disagreeable swelling is occasioned by the use of snow- 
water ; but then it is found in Madagascar, and on the 
Monongahela River, where no snow-water probably is 
used ; and it is not found to any extent in other places 
where the snow-water is most abundant. Others say 
it is owing to dirt, and where it prevails, unquestionably 
the people are dirty enough; but then people are dirty 
in other places. There is no goitre in the streets of 
London, or the cellars of Ann Street in Boston, or in 
the cabins of the Irish. Suppose then we say, that it is 
owing to the want of sunshine. However, to spare 
any body else the trouble of refuting this theory, I will 
refute it myself, by reminding the reader that there is 
no goitre that I ever heard of, in the coal-mines of 

feet) gives it a wave or curve, a spreading here or- condensa- 
tion there, wonderful and indescribable.' — Journal in Switzer- 
land. Works of Byron. 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 179 

England, where people do not see the sun once a month. 
Determined to reach Interlachen to-night, we walked 
on, ten miles, over a level, macadamized road. This 
we found more tiresome than climbing mountains; and 
we arrived at last, utterly fatigued, at this beautiful town, 
which is nearly composed of hotels. It is said that 
some fifteen hundred strangers, mostly English, reside 
here. Its advantages are, that it is admirably situated, 
near most of the finest scenery, and is itself a lovely 
place ; beside which, it is easily accessible from Berne. 
Tired as we were, we refused to stop till we could find 
rooms opposite to the Jungfrau ; so that we might see 
it as soon as we opened our eyes in the morning. This 
being accomplished, we sat down, and I called for a 
pair of slippers. One of my companions seeing them, 
inquired where I got them. ' I asked for them,' said I. 
1 But by what French word ? ' said he. c Pantoufles.' 
Not catching the sound, he called the chamber-maid, 
and politely asked her to give him ' des soitfflets^ 
— that is, some slaps. The amusement and per- 
plexity visible in the face of the young lady may be 
easily imagined. The perfect gravity on his part, and 
the astonishment on hers, were irresistible; and we 
ended our day with a very hearty laugh. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

SWITZERLAND. MONT BLANC. 

Glad were we, after our week's walk, at the arrival 
of a day of rest. Sunday morning rose clear on the 
pleasant meadows of Interlachen, and the snowy peaks 
of the Jungfrau, which glittered above us in pale 
brilliancy, embosomed in the serene blue of the morn- 
ing. On the soft green fields around, stand clumps 
of noble trees ; the walnut and linden, and other 
forest trees, all stretching out their limbs, and bend- 
ing down their branches, enjoying the moist atmos- 
phere. The Aar which empties into Lake Brienz, 
runs out of it, and passes in numerous channels 
through Interlachen and Unterseen, before it empties 
into the Lake of Thun. The names of these two 
contiguous towns, Interlachen and Unterseen, mean the 
same thing, and are derived from their situation 
between the two lakes. The buildings in Interlachen 
are mostly new and in good taste, surrounded with 
shrubbery and flowers, and the whole valley is shut 
in by mountains, not craggy but green to the tops, 
covered with pines, and in their mellow distance, 
tinted green, purple, and blue, color shading off into 
color with an infinite variety, and glimmering through 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 181 

the airy sea which rolls between. The bells ringing 
for church at eight o'clock, in the old town of Unter- 
seen, drew our feet in that direction. We entered a 
little Lutheran meeting-house, where on plain wooden 
benches the men sat on one side, and the women on 
the other, as in our Methodist churches at home. The 
minister, in a black stuff gown, with a ruff around 
his neck, sat in a chair in front of the congregation. 
The women were all in black, with black caps and 
lace trimmings, and with black ribbons down their 
backs. Hymns were sung by the congregation, and 
then the minister ascended a pulpit on one side of the 
building, and delivered with animation and without 
notes, a discourse,, the subject of which was the 
Lord's Supper. After his discourse and prayer, he 
came from the pulpit, and seated himself in his chair 
with a small table before him, on which stood the 
bread. On a seat behind were the deacons, with the 
goblets of wine ; the congregation then passed in 
regular procession and single file ; the men first, and 
the women afterward, from their seats to the minister, 
from whom each took a piece of bread ; then on to 
the deacons, who handed to each a cup of wine, and 
then back to their seats again. This method of ad- 
ministering the sacrament did not appear to me an 
improvement on our own. It seems to be intermediate 
between the Catholic and Episcopal custom of kneel- 
ing around the altar, and the Presbyterian or Congre- 
gational custom of remaining seated. In like manner, 
the Lutheran doctrine of the Lord's Supper, stands 
half way between the doctrine of the Church of 
Rome, and that of Calvin and the Presbyterians. 



182 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

Both the Lutheran doctrine of the sacrament, and 
the Lutheran method of its administration, seem to 
have met the fate of most compromises, and proved 
failures. In fact, nothing seems more easy, and 
nothing is more difficult, than to find the middle way 
and take the middle ground between extremes. The 
golden mean is that which shall unite the truth and 
the advantage of the two antagonisms. It is the 
synthesis or reunion, the marriage, of the two truths, 
which in their divorce give strength to the warring 
antithesis. But instead of this synthesis, the middle 
doctrine usually turns out a mere compromise ; hav- 
ing the advantages neither of one extreme, nor of the 
other. Now, the Roman Catholic doctrine of the 
Eucharist, which teaches that God is really present 
in the elements, inspires sentiments of awe, and makes 
a deep religious impression. The Calvinistic doc- 
trine, which denies the presence of God in the ele- 
ments, and makes of them symbols of his spiritual 
presence, and of spiritual communion, has the advan- 
tage of being both intelligible and rational. So, like- 
wise, of the modes of communion. If we believe 
with the Roman Catholic that God is in the wafer, 
it is proper to kneel in receiving it, for its reception 
is an act of worship ; if we believe with the Calvinist 
that the bread is merely a symbol, to kneel would be 
an act of superstition, and the Presbyterian custom 
of sitting is thereby justified. But the Lutherans deny 
the doctrine of transubstantiation, which teaches that 
the substance of the bread has been changed into the 
body of Christ, and yet maintain that the body of 
Christ is present with the bread, and that the broad 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 183 

is not a more symbol. This middle doctrine neither 
satisfies the religious sentiment, nor the intellect; it 
leaves the mind confused and the heart empty. Un- 
questionably there is religious sentiment among the 
Lutherans at the administration of the Supper ; but 
not on account of the Lutheran doctrine, but in spite 
of it. Whether any synthesis remains to be discov- 
ered which shall truly reconcile the Roman Catholic 
and the Calvinistic view of the Eucharist, is yet to be 
seen. 

After church, I took a walk over the meadows 
toward the Lake of Brienz, and sat down on a stone 
to make a sketch of the surrounding scenery. The 
whole village seems to stand on a piece of rich inter- 
val land lying between Lake Brienz and Lake Thun. 
Some of the trees standing near were of great size. 
I measured one walnut, and found that, four feet 
above the ground, it was twenty feet and four inches 
in circumference- This is larger than the largest tree 
in the State of Massachusetts ; the largest of which, 
sycamores or elms, seldom exceed eighteen feet. The 
great elm on the Boston Common is between sixteen 
and seventeen feet in circumference; the great elm 
at Pittsfield is, I think, less than eighteen feet. In the 
Valley of the Mississippi, trees grow to a much greater 
size. I measured one many years since, which grew 
near Louisville, Kentucky, which was forty-two feet in 
circumference, or fourteen feet in diameter, at some 
distance from the ground. This was a sycamore, 
and I have been told of others which reached the 
vast size of seventy-five or eighty feet in circum- 
ference. Probably these large trees are never close- 



184 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

grained ; they all grow like those we saw at Interlachen, 
in rich interval land, and where there is a great deal 
of moisture. Yet there are few sights in nature or 
art, more imposing than that of one of these enormous 
trees. They are the oldest of living things ; they 
carry the mind back hundreds of years, as only that 
can do which has lived in former times ; and when 
fallen and in ruins, blown down by storms, or struck 
by lightning, their enormous shafts mouldering on the 
ground are as touching as the fallen columns of 
Palmyra or Persepolis. I think one can easily become 
attached to a tree. Its presence is always cheering. 
It gives us an infinite succession of new sights and 
sounds ; every breeze which passes, wakens its leaves 
to music, and makes a variety of light and shade on 
their flickering surfaces. I remember a large cotton- 
wood tree which grew near my study window, the 
leaves of which, on account of their long foot-stalks, 
were in perpetual motion, like the limbs of little 
children. This tree was never still ; it was the most 
talkative companion I ever had ; sometimes when 
there seemed to be no air stirring elsewhere, its 
leaves were all alive, and one could hardly help 
thinking that a company of birds were fluttering 
about among them. The student of trees learns 
soon that each variety has its characteristic beauty. 
Every species has a typical form toward which it 
strives, and which, under the most favorable circum- 
stances, it sometimes attains. Thus, the typical form 
of the American elm is that of a Grecian vase, and I 
remember an elm in the Deerfield meadows in Massa- 
chusetts which, standing alone, looked as if carved 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 185 

by Phidian art into that form. The maple endeavors 
to become an egg, and often succeeds ; the pine is a 
tent, &c. During this digression on trees, suggested 
by the Interlachen walnuts, I have been diligently 
finishing my sketch. As I draw, a gentleman and 
lady pass by, whom my companion discovers to be 
neighbors from Boston. Americans certainly do their 
share of travelling in Europe. This summer there 
were in Switzerland more Americans than English ; 
and in a Salle-a-manger at Coblentz, at breakfast one 
morning, the greater part of the company turned out 
to be Americans. 

On Monday morning, September 10, our party of four 
set out again, to walk to Chamounix. On this occa- 
sion we took no guide but young Fritz, who had never 
been over the way any more than ourselves. But we 
trusted to finding temporary guides whenever it should 
be necessary. To-day we were to walk from Inter- 
lachen to Kandersteg, up the Valley of the Kander; 
and our way the whole distance was by carriage-roads, 
where no other guide was necessary but Keller's map. 
The rest of the company set off without me, as 1 lin- 
gered behind to fix the outlines of the Jungfrau in my 
memory, by means of a parting sketch. In following 
them, after reaching Unterseen, I had some difficulty 
in finding the road which I knew was to lead us along 
the left bank of Lake Thun. Some Germans directed 
me by a cross-way over the meadows ; and at last I 
found myself in this rich and fertile country, sur- 
rounded by grain-fields, where men were reaping, with 
a broad river in front of me, which seemed to cut off 
all further progress. I inquired the way again of the 



180 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

German peasants; but we could not understand each 
other, and so, trusting to luck, 1 pushed along the bank 
of the stream, following its course downward ; for I 
argued that, as I was intending to go along the left bank 
of the lake, by keeping the left bank of the river which 
emptied into it, I should be sure to be there by and 
by. This sagacious calculation was verified by the 
result ; for in a few minutes the river made a sharp 
bend to the right, and on going around this turn, I saw 
my friends before me at a little distance waiting my 
arrival. For many miles our way this morning lay 
along the Lake of Thun. Opposite, on the other shore, 
rose sharp peaks of old volcanic mountains ; below us 
the blue waters of the lake ; before us, on a promontory 
in the distance, an old castle. After a while the road 
diverged to the left, toward the town of Asche ; from 
this we descended to the high road which goes up the 
Valley of Frutigen. We passed near the foot of Mount 
Niessen, which rises like a vast pyramid, in form like 
those of Egypt, but covered with rich lines of verdure 
and foliage up to its sharp pointed summit. Standing 
alone, separate from any neighboring hills or adjacent 
peaks, bathed in sunlight, clothed in verdure, it is tinted 
and tinged with a thousand shades of blue, purple and 
gray, by its forests, rocks, and bare soils. It seemed 
to me one of the most sublime and lovely objects on 
which the human eye can rest in this world. I thought, 
as 1 looked at the various tints upon its sides, the dark 
blue lines of the ravines, the light colored mountain 
pastures, and the purple woods, that there could be 
scarcely a greater luxury than to live in the constant 
presence of such a mountain ; to see it in the morning 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUK0PE. 187 

and evening twilight, when its lofty summit became 
the companion of the morning and evening star; to 
observe its tints changing with the changing seasons ; 
to look at it when the early mists slowly ascend its 
sides ; when clouds hang about its summit ; when the 
driving storm conceals and reveals portions of its 
woods ; or when the snows of winter dress it in purest 
white. It seems impossible that any person can live 
in the neighborhood of such majestic objects, and not 
be influenced by them. Nevertheless, such is often 
the fact. And are we not all surrounded by wonder 
and beauty, of which we are unconscious ? Man has 
the terrible power of being able to close his eyes, and 
shut his ears, and harden his heart against all truth and 
all beauty. But for an open eye and a wakeful mind, 
I can conceive of no natural influence so great as that 
of mountains. The ocean rolling on the beach, or 
contending with, the shore all day long; Niagara, with 
its exquisite beauty of color and motion; and forests 
with the music of their leaves, are all ennobling influ- 
ences ; but to me there is a calm majesty in the 
mountain which surpasses them all. The mountains 
are the altars of earth, from which ascend to God not 
the smoke of victims, but the incense of thoughts 
raised by them above earthly desire and care. The 
ocean gives us the sublime sense of abstract infinity, 
but the mountains impress us with a presence of per- 
sonal infinity. The ocean takes the mind out, and 
the mountain carries it up. The ocean expands, the 
mountain elevates. 

Passing Mount Niessen, we went up the Valley of 
Frutigen and reached the town of Frutigen at three, 



188 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

P. M. Setting out again at five, we passed into the 
Valley of Kander, and a three hours' walk brought us to 
Kandersteg at eight. This is a small village at the 
upper extremity of the valley close to the mountains, 
and where the carriage road terminates. The Kander 
is a small stream which takes its rise in Mount Gemmi, 
and empties into the Lake of Thun. At Kandersteg 
we were still not far from the Jungfrau, although it had 
taken us thirty-five miles to reach this spot in our 
circuit around the mountains. At this little village and 
in a very poor inn, the worst but one which we found 
in Switzerland, we passed the night. The only travel- 
lers there beside ourselves were two young Prussians, 
and a French gentleman. The latter was a very 
intelligent and agreeable person. I found in his case, 
what I had before noticed, that high culture approxi- 
mates men of all nations to each other in manners. 
This Frenchman had nothing specially French about 
him. He resembled in all respects a highly cultivated 
Englishman or American. Moreover, there was noth- 
ing in his manner by which one could guess at his 
profession ; he might have been a statesman, soldier, 
or literary man. His information seemed extensive 
and accurate ; there was nothing of prejudice or 
violence in his tone of thought ; he made many inqui- 
ries about the United States, and appeared well ac- 
quainted with our institutions. The only drawback on 
my satisfaction, while conversing with him, was the 
difficulty of managing the language. For I found, 
while I could do very well in speaking French on all 
occasions of necessity, that I became strangely embar- 
rassed whenever I attempted to launch forth' into general 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 189 

conversation. One reason was, that T did not care if I 
made mistakes when it was necessary to speak ; but if 
I volunteered remarks, I was ashamed if they were not 
correctly expressed. It would seem that one whose 
knowledge of a language was derived from books, 
would be able to find words most readily upon subjects 
treated of in books ; but I did not find this to be the 
case. 

One thing which struck me frequently while among 
these mountains, was the remarkable way in which 
they separate one from all familiar thoughts and things. 
They put a great gulf between the mind and all its 
accustomed subjects of contemplation ; and in this way 
give a sense of entire repose to the faculties. The 
soul is wholly at peace ; resting from its usual cares, 
anxieties, and interests. In the very heart of Europe, 
I cared no longer for European affairs. There seemed 
to be nothing near me but nature ; I was in her element. 
Of the revolutions going on around me, I heard and 
knew nothing. By accident, I read a few days after 
this, in a little Savoy paper, that Venice had surrenderd 
to Austria; that the insurrection in Hungary was finally 
overcome by the Russian armies. But to such matters 
as these, the news of which we listened for so eagerly 
in America, I was almost indifferent, as also were all 
around me. So that the Alps stand firm, and attract 
by their mighty masses a sufficient number of travel- 
lers, with plenty of francs for bonne-mains and trink- 
gelt, these people care little for what is going on in 
the rest of Europe. Secure in their high intrench- 
ments, they are lifted above all anxiety about what is 
happening below. ' So, then, the life of the world,' 



190 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 



I thought, ' may roll on as it will ; I am taken for once 
out of its stream ; neither my own business nor the 
world's history affects me now. I am calmed by these 
mountains ; I am cooled by these glaciers. These 
torrents pouring free, and rushing in headlong course 
down the ravines, attract me more than the course of 
revolutions.' In this clear Alpine air the distant moun- 
tains seem close at hand, but the nearest social facts 
far away. The atmosphere of the hills is a telescope, 
with which we look at nature through the eye-piece, 
but at the world through the object-glass. One comes 
much nearer ; the other recedes to an illimitable dis- 
tance. 

Tuesday morning we arose at five, and began the 
ascent of the Gemmi. It took two hours of steep 
climbing to reach the top of the first rise behind Kan- 
dersteg. Our party consisted of six, — Mr. C, of 
Montreal, and I, who carried one knapsack alternately ; 
two Mr. F's, also of Montreal, who carried a knapsack 
in like manner; our young Fritz, who came with us 
from Rigi to carry our cloaks ; and an extra guide 
from Kandersteg over the Gemmi to Leukerbad. 
These guides and porters sometimes carry immense 
burdens on their shoulders on a frame of wood. We 
met a party to-day, who had ascended from the other 
side with the porter, who carried two large trunks, 
either of which would be a load in America, on a 
level surface, for one man, and three or four carpet- 
bags beside. With these he had ascended the tremen- 
dous precipice from Leuk. 

After our first climb of two hours, we came to a 
valley, where we passed from Canton Berne into 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 



191 



Canton Vallais ; then crossed some mountain pastures, 
where a few starved goats and sheep just keep them- 
selves alive, and even lichens turn white and die. 
Then we came to a region, the type of desolation, 
surrounded by bare cliffs, glaciers above and the ruins 
of rocks below; and, crossing the ridge of broken 
rocks, we reached an inn, the scene, many years ago, 
of a murder, which Werner made the subject of a 
tragedy called 'The Twenty-fourth of February.' The 
inn was a miserable one enough, wherfe, though very 
hungry from our morning walk, we could get hardly 
any thing to eat. Here our manly and modest French 
gentleman, with his companions, passed us on horse- 
back. We went on, around a lake called ' The Dau- 
bensee,' about three miles in circumference, into which 
empties a torrent from one of the glaciers. This lake 
has no apparent outlet for its freezing waters. On our 
left rose the high, sharp, snow-covered peaks of the 
Altis. Consulting our guide-book, I found that, by 
ascending a ridge of rock on our left, we should obtain 
a fine view of the mountains of Savoy. One of our 
party diverged from the path with myself to get this 
view ; the rest preferred to push on. I had somehow 
unfortunately lamed my knee, and it was with much 
difficulty that I could walk ; but I would not lose this 
prospect, and it turned out a very fine one. Below 
our feet was an almost perpendicular precipice of 
more than two thousand feet in depth, down which 
the road found its way in some inexplicable manner. 
In the valley beneath lay the village of Leukerbad ; so 
near, that it seemed as if we could throw a stone into 
its streets, but in reality a mile or more from the foot 



192 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 



of the precipice. Beyond the village rose steep, dark 
mountains, upwards of a thousand feet in height, but 
over the tops of which we saw the snowy tops of the 
Piedmont Alps. These mountains were perhaps thirty 
or forty miles from us, but their snowy summits were 
very conspicuous. We could distinguish the three 
great peaks of Monte Rosa, and the sharp pyramid of 
Monte Cervin, which is perhaps the most extraordinary 
mountain for its shape among the Alps. It rises to 
the height of some thirteen thousand feet, in a per- 
fectly regular and wholly inaccessible pyramid, ap- 
proaching in sharpness to an obelisk. After enjoying 
this view, we followed the mule-path down the side of 
the wall, on whose summit we stood. In many places 
the mountain is almost perpendicular, and the road is 
hewn out of its sides in zigzags. We were more than 
an hour in reaching the bottom, the distance being 
about six miles from the top to the plain ; and when 
thus looking up, you cannot discover the least trace of 
a road, and see nothing but a mountain wall behind 
you. This road in some places quite hangs over the 
precipice, and at one spot, it is said, you can drop a 
stone fifteen hundred feet plumb. In other places, it 
is a hollow way, the rock projecting over it for some 
distance. This road was built in the middle of the last 
century, at the joint expense of the Cantons Berne and 
Vallais. 

As we approached Leukerbad, the question arose, 
at which hotel we should stop to dine. One of them 
was a new large building; the other, the Maison 
Blanche,' was a smaller house, well spoken of by 
Murray. 4 Let us go the large hotel,' said one, ' that 



ELEVEN' WEEKS IN EUROPE. 193 

is the newest, and promises to be the best.' • No,' 
said another, ' the other travellers will go there ; let 
us go to the Maison Blanche, and perhaps we shall be 
the only guests, and so have better attention.' The 
last argument carried the day, and we found on this 
occasion, as on others, that it was often a good plan 
not to go to the most fashionable hotel, if one wished 
for real comfort. 

Leukerbad is much visited by invalids on account of 
its hot, medicinal springs, where the patients bathe, 
and drink the water. Where the water issues from 
the ground, it is heated to a hundred and twenty of 
Fahrenheit, and contains a good deal of sulphur. The 
customs at these baths are very peculiar. The rule is 
to spend eight hours every day, sitting in this hot 
water. As this is naturally somewhat tedious, people 
bathe in company, the bath-rooms being large enough 
each to accommodate twenty or thirty persons. These 
sit in their bathing-dresses under water, their heads 
emerging all around, and amuse themselves by con- 
versation, reading, and playing chess, — the chess- 
board or book-stand floating under their nose on the 
water. I did not join this bathing company, but took 
a douche of hot water, which I fancied improved the 
condition of my knee. I should have preferred a 
douche of cold water, but that was not to be had. 

Feeling still a little lame, 1 determined to ride 
twelve miles to Siders on our way to Martigny. Our 
landlord let me a horse, with a German woman to run 
by the side and bring him back ; which latter addition 
to our suite, I could have willingly dispensed with, but 
it seemed to be the custom, and to customs travellers 
13 



194 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

must submit. So I mounted my horse, which was a 
broken down hack, resembling Rosinante, as I myself 
in my equipments not a little resembled Don Quixote. 
On my head was a conical white limp hat ; in my 
hand I grasped a long alpenstock, not unlike a lance ; 
over my dress floated an enormous shepherd's plaid. 
So that, on the whole, I appeared in costume halfway 
between Don Quixote and John Gilpin. Add to this 
the German girl trotting by the side, with a stick in 
her hand to incite the horse, shouting and talking to 
him, and occasionally taking hold of his tail when he 
went too fast, to help herself along ; and the aspect 
was such as to awaken inextinguishable laughter 
among my companions. I tried to persuade my fair 
attendant to walk by the side and say nothing to the 
horse ; but this her sense of duty would not allow. 
Meantime my companions, to shorten the way, had 
crossed a pasture ; when, on climbing the fence again 
into the road, a singular adventure befel one of them, 
which gave him his share of the ridicule which I had 
hitherto monopolized. When about half way over the 
fence, he fell backward, and holding firmly by his 
hands to the top rail, his feet went straggling up in the 
air, his head hanging toward the ground, and his body 
in a perpendicular position, but reversed. The diffi- 
culty was, having once assumed this attitude, how to 
get out of it.. He could not let go, for then he would 
fall on his head ; it was impossible to pull himself up 
again ; and he seemed to have made up his mind to 
remain there. Just then a Roman Catholic padre, in 
shovel hat and black gown, passed by, with three or 
four parishioners. Attracted by our peals of laughter, 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 195 

they turned around, and all their French politeness 
could not prevent them from joining ; for it really 
seemed as if our friend had taken up this remarkable 
position as a matter of choice. 

Determined to get rid of my ruthless attendant, I 
took the opportunity when she had loitered a little 
behind, to whip up my horse and ride away. The 
road along which we passed toward Siders, was strik- 
ingly picturesque and beautiful. The first part of the 
way led along a stream which emptied into the Rhone, 
and a steep precipice overhung the path from above, 
and descended sharply from below to the river Dala. 
This road is called the Galleries, and is hewn along 
the face of the rock, passing through tunnels in some 
places, where we could hear the water running behind 
the rock. The abyss below is so deep that the river 
at the bottom cannot be seen. After passing the 
Galleries, the way led through vineyards where ripe 
grapes overhung the walls, so that we could stretch out 
our hands and pluck clusters. We met a woman with 
a basket full which she had picked, very large and 
fine, which she sold us for a few sous. On reaching 
Siders, just at dark, we took a post-carriage and rode 
on twelve miles further to Sion, — an ancient and 
picturesque city, the residence of the Bishop of Sion, 
who was formerly absolute sovereign over the greatest 
part of the valley. He still possesses a limited civil 
authority. The Canton Vallais is in fact the Valley of 
the Rhone, and extends from the glacier of the Rhone 
in Mount Furca to the Lake of Geneva. The people are 
indolent and dirty, and suffer from goitres and cretinism. 

At Sion we found a good inn, and in the Salle-a- 



196 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

manger met once again with our friend the French 
gentleman, with whom we had passed the previous 
evening at Kandersteg. He asked me to stop with 
him the next day and see some fine wood-carving, 
which he said was in the possession of one of his 
acquaintances in Sion, which I lamented that I had not 
time to do. I arose in the morning at day-break, and 
walked out to see the place, and found myself lite- 
rally obeying the Psalmist's direction to l Walk around 
Sion, and consider well her bulwarks, and admire her 
palaces ; ' for of these palaces or castles there are three, 
built on three rocky cliffs, which rise in the middle of 
the city, as though one should build a castle on a high 
rock in the middle of Washington Street, and another 
in the middle of Pemberton Square in Boston. Before 
one of these castles was a body of Swiss soldiers going 
through their morning exercise. At the gate of the 
castle stood a sentinel, who refused me admittance, but 
directed me to the major, who was drilling the troops. 
He said I could go in after the drill. So I walked 
away, and presently came to castle number two, 
larger, older, and more ruinous than the first. After 
having made a little sketch of this, I left it and pre- 
sently came to the third, the largest and most ruinous 
of all, which no doubt was the old Episcopal Palace. 
This hill, I afterward found, is called Tourbillon, the 
second Valeria, and the third Majoria. Sion was 
formerly the capital of the Seduni, who inhabited the 
country in the time of Julius Caesar. Taking another 
post-carriage we rode this morning on to Martigny, 
which we reached in three hours, by a way beautiful 
and admirable, if one had time to notice all beautiful 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 197 

things in this land of wonders. We were now on the 
famous Simplon Road, which passes up by the right bank 
of the river through Canton Vallais, until it turns south 
across the Alps into Italy. This part of the valley is 
extremely fertile, and is filled with large umbrageous 
trees, leaning over and stretching out their long limbs 
in a manner which seems to indicate great contentment. 
Vineyards are on each side of the valley, and continued 
on terraces of the mountains. 

We were now travelling by post, which differs from 
travelling by voiture only in this, that, instead of con- 
tinuing on with the same driver and horses, you take 
new ones every ten or twelve miles. The routes and 
prices are also fixed by the government. It is a conve- 
nient method of travelling, and not very expensive, 
provided your party is large enough to fill a carriage. 
The horses and carriages, however, are not particu- 
larly good, of which we had an illustration the night 
before, in going from Siders to Sion. The carriage 
given us was an old and poor one, and the driver had 
neglected to grease the wheels, in consequence of which 
one of them took fire. We became aware of a smell 
of fire, and, looking out, observed sparks falling from 
the wheel. We told the driver, but he merely re- 
marked that he was glad of it, and wished the car- 
riage might burn up. To that, we replied, we had no 
objection, provided we were not in it. In fact, there 
seemed danger that the wheel at least would be con- 
sumed, so fast did the sparks fall from it. So the 
driver took his hat, and scooping up water out of the 
ditch, attempted ineffectually to extinguish the fire. 
Nothing could be done till we reached the village ; so 



198 ELEVEN WEEKS IN ErROPE. 

we moved slowly on in the fashion of a comet, with a 
fiery tail streaming behind. At the village the whole 
household of the inn turned out to inquire into our 
misfortune : and such a chattering I have seldom 
heard. Landlord and landlady. gar:ons and n 
chambre, all stood around the carriage lamenting or 
advising. Meantime the driver procured a large dish 
of butter, and proceeded to anoint the wheel. While 
he was doing this, the gar-ons brought out a dish of 
black bread and fed the horses with it, for ho. 
this country eat bread. Presently a traveller came 
out, and flew into a violent rage at seeing our horses 
eating the bread which he had ordered for his own ; 
but our driver was much pleased at the mistake, and 
merely laughed at the traveller. At Martignv we 
procured a guide, and I took a mule to ride over the 
Col de Balme into the Valley of Chamounix. The 
ascent from Martignv gives a fine view of the Valley 
of the Rhone. You see the river through a great 
part of its course, with the fertile meadows and fields 
through which is runs, till it is lost in the blue distance 
near its source in the Furca. On your left, beyond 
the valley, rises the mountain wall which separates it 
from Canton Berne ; on your right, the high mountain 
range which separates the valley from Piedmont. The 
day was hot, and the hill steep, but in about two hours 
and a half we came to the descent into the Trient 
Valley. Immense dark mountains crowned with snow 
shut it in. and high on the left was the glacier of 
Trient. When we reached the bottom of the valley, 
we found a hamlet of two or three houses, where we 
obtained some bread, and the delicious mountain cream 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 199 

and honey. Then began the steep ascent of the Col 
de Balme. Up, and still higher up, we climbed, first 
through a pine forest, where the mule was obliged to 
step very cautiously along. In these ascents, no mat- 
ter how narrow the path is, the mules never go straight 
up, but ease themselves by crossing from side to side 
continually ; and where there is a steep precipice on 
the side of the path, they keep as near the edge as 
they can, much to the discontent of the traveller, who 
does not understand their motive; but the reason is, 
that they are accustomed to carry packages on their 
backs, and if they go near the hill-side the package 
sometimes strikes against it, and pushes them over the 
edge. When the mule thinks the road unsafe, he 
stops and feels it with his foot, and smells it with his 
nose, and at last, if satisfied, steps on. After passing 
through the pine forest we came up into high barren 
pastures, and at last, four hours after leaving Martigny, 
reached the summit. Here we anticipated a fine view 
of Mont Blanc and her surrounding peaks, for the sake 
of which we had taken this route in preference to 
another called Tete-noir, the road by which has finer 
scenery along its course, but no single view equal to 
this from the Col de Balme. But alas ! clouds hung 
over the summit of the mountain, and we could see 
nothing but its sides, and the glaciers descending from 
them into the Valley of Chamounix. Here we sent 
back the mule and guide, and walked down about 
twelve miles to the village of the Priory in Chamou- 
nix. Although well tired on our arrival, we deter- 
mined not to go into a hotel till they promised to give 
us rooms from which we could see Mont Blanc. At 



200 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

the Hotel de Londres, where we first stopped, this 
could not be done, so we went on to the Hotel de la 
Couronne, or, as it was translated on the sign-board for 
the benefit of the English, 'Crown's Hotel.' Here we 
obtained rooms, the windows of which looked toward 
the mountain, and found ourselves, also, the only- 
guests, so that we had undivided attention. 

Next morning, when we looked out of the window, 
it was raining hard, and the summit of the mountain 
surrounded with clouds. So we spent the forenoon in 
resting and writing letters. At one o'clock it cleared 
up a little, and we set out with a guide and our friend 
Fritz to ascend the Montanvert, which overlooks the 
Mer de Glace. As we could only stay at Chamounix 
two days, we had determined to select from the differ- 
ent excursions laid down in books, this, and the ascent 
of the Flegere. The Mer de Glace, or Sea of Tee, is 
a confluence of three or four large glaciers, which de- 
scend from different parts of this great mountain chain, 
and uniting together, finally come down into the Valley 
of Chamounix in the Glacier de Bois. On this glacier 
Professor Forbes instituted many of his experiments 
and observations, which are recorded in his interesting 
work on the Alps. The path to the Montanvert takes 
you up through the woods, to the region where the 
woods cease. After a walk of between two and three 
hours, we came to where it was snowing instead of 
raining. After another hour's walk we reached the 
house. 

It was snowing hard. We descended from the house 
to the morraine, which consisted of enormous blocks 
of granite, crossing which, we went up the Mer de 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 201 

Glace. The guide led us among the crevices a little 
distance, but the snow was falling rapidly, and there 
was little advantage, and some danger in proceeding; 
so we returned to the mountain-house and warmed 
ourselves by a great wood fire. Here, as every where 
in Switzerland, we found carved specimens of wooden 
ware for sale. Paper-cutters, nut-crackers, needle- 
cases, &c, beautifully carved of cedar, cameo-fash- 
ion ; the dark heart of the wood being the ground, and 
the figures carved in relief upon it from the white 
wood. There were also ornaments of crystal, agate, 
cornelian, onyx, topaz, and amethyst, — all found 
among these mountains, but chiefly brought down by 
the glacier L'Argentiere. These stones are sent into 
Germany to be cut and polished, and then brought 
back here for sale as souvenirs of Mont Blanc. After 
making some purchases we descended to La Couronne, 
where we found a regular 'table d'hote' dinner, with 
an innumerable number of courses, awaiting our arri- 
val. The next morning our good fortune, in respect 
to weather, came back. The sun rose clear, and from 
our windows we could watch the rosy color stealing 
over the summit of Mont Blanc, — the monarch of 
mountains. No one can look at this without remem- 
bering the noble lines of Coleridge : 

' Hast thou a charm to stay the morning star 
In his steep course, so long he seems to pause 
On thy bald, awful head, oh sovran Blanc 1 ' 

This poem, which, with Wordsworth's on Tintern 
Abbey for its companion, stands perhaps at the head 
of English descriptive poetry, is continually in one's 
mind while in the neighborhood of Mont Blanc. No 



202 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

words of your own can express, like these, the sublime 
features of this scenery. It some how, I know not why, 
differs from the poetry of Byron and of Wordsworth 
in this, that it adds nothing to the scenery borrowed 
from the poet's dream. It seems an exact and ade- 
quate expression of the feelings awakened in every 
bosom by the sight of these vast mountain masses, and 
these enormous glaciers ; but it does not, like the poe- 
try of Byron, Rousseau and Wordsworth, add a deeper 
human feeling to the scene. Perhaps this is owing to 
the nature of the mind of Coleridge, which was intel- 
lectual rather than passionate. His imagination was 
filled with light, not heat. I am not sure that this 
was a defect. It may have checked the exuberance of 
his genius — in which, in truth, there is no tropical 
luxury or profusion — and resembles it rather to the 
stately pine forests of a northern clime ; vast, impos- 
ing, and making pure sweet music in the morning 
breeze. 

After breakfast we began the ascent of the Flegere, 
which is part of the mountain range shutting in the 
valley on the side opposite to Mont Blanc. The cross 
of Flegere is about thirty-five hundred feet above the 
village, and we must go as high as this to obtain a 
platform from which to look at Mont Blanc. 

But the view from that summit I shall not forget as 
long as I live. It was a warm, sunny day, the air a 
little misty, but only enough to give the idea of a 
liquid medium. Sitting on the edge of this steep 
declivity, we looked over the valley, which seemed 
not more than a mile wide, to the opposite side, where 
rose the enormous accumulation of peaks and moun- 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 203 

tains, of which Mont Blanc is the highest and central 
elevation. This bare, glittering dome receded far up 
and beyond all the rest, being still eight or ten miles 
away from us, and two thousand feet higher than the 
gigantic peaks and domes which surround him. The 
Aiguilles, or needles of sharp, bare granite, shoot up 
to the height of eleven thousand, and twelve thousand 
feet above the sea ; but Mont Blanc is fifteen thousand 
six hundred. A white vapor, like a fleecy cloud, kept 
rising from his crest. This was the new-fallen snow, 
blown off by the storms which roar almost ceaselessly 
around him. The vast masses of snow, the white 
fields and hills of ice, which terminate below in the 
glaciers which they feed, and above in the granite 
peaks, too steep to allow any snow to remain in them, 
dazzled the eyes by its quantity and brilliancy. We 
looked downward, to repose them, on the forests of 
pine which clothe the lower part of the mountain, and 
the meadows in the valley through which run the Arve, 
and the Arveiron. Just opposite to where we sat, rose 
the perpendicular cliffs which terminate in the Aiguille 
Dru and the Aiguille Vert. Below these are fields of 
snow which slope downward to the Mer de Glace. 
The Mer de Glace again seems to be rolling its bil- 
lowy snows downward, till they are precipitated in a 
vast cataract of pinnacles of ice, forever falling, but 
always there, which descends into the Glacier de Bois. 
From this glacier tumbles a cascade of water, the 
roar of which comes across the valley, occasionally 
deepened into a sound like the rolling of thunders by 
avalanches, which fall into it from above. So there 
I sat, with this vast picture of ice, snow, granite 



204 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

peaks, glaciers, and waterfalls before me, — sat for an 
hour or more, wondering if, indeed, this was the Mont 
Blanc of my school-boy's studies, of my childhood's 
dreams. The intense beauty of the scene exceeded 
all that I ever imagined. These great peaks, seen 
through the transparent Alpine air, seemed close at 
hand, and the vast glacier was spread out under my 
eye like a map. Mont Blanc, indeed, remained inac- 
cessible — remote. You came close to the Princes 
and Kings of his court, but the Emperor held himself 
aloof. 

On this summit I met an English gentleman and 
his family, — a gentleman of London, a man of wealth 
and taste, a lover of pictures, an admirer and friend 
of Turner, an acquaintance and neighbor of Ruskin ; 
who invited me to come and see him in London, when 
he would show me his pictures, and, if possible, carry 
me to see Turner's private gallery. Such courtesy to 
a stranger almost induces me to retract what I have 
said of English reserve. 

After coming down from the Flegere, stopping fre- 
quently on the way to look again at these many beau- 
ties, we walked across the valley to the Glacier de 
Bois, the source of the Arveiron. It came down 
through the meadows and into the pine forest ; at a 
distance looking as if you could walk up on it, but 
when you came near, its sides are smooth walls of 
ice, some fifty feet high. Out of a cavern of ice 
rushes one branch of the Arveiron. Thousands and 
tens of thousands of tons of granite are scattered 
about, which it lias brought down with it from above. 



CHAPTER IX. 

CHAMOUNIX TO FRANKFORT. 

On Saturday we left Chamounix on our way to 
Geneva. The road for a good part of the way follows 
the river Arve. It is very beautiful, having a view of 
Mont Blanc for a great distance, and yet passing along 
valleys, fertile, full of vineyards, and where noble 
trees are growing in the full luxuriance of Italian 
foliage. I fancied that I could see traces of Italy in 
the fields and air, and in the indolent manners of the 
people ; for Savoy, in which we were, belongs to the 
kingdom of Sardinia. On this account we had found 
it necessary to have the vise of the Sardinian consul 
added to the others on our passport. We rode in the 
remarkable vehicles which bear the name of char-a- 
banc ; and the name describes the thing sufficiently 
well ; for it resembles a bench, or sofa, placed length- 
wise on wheels; so that you sit with your side to the 
horse, facing the landscape on one side of the road, 
as though an omnibus were split lengthwise. The road 
at first passed through deep ravines and forests ; after- 
ward, it descended into luxuriant fields and fertile 
plains. On one side of the road were steep moun- 
tains, with bare, rocky sides, where the strata were 



206 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

bent and twisted in a most extraordinary manner. 
Near Sallenches is a small but picturesque lake, and 
from this town there is a view of Mont Blanc, so fine, 
that one would willingly spend the day in looking at 
it. The road from Sallenches to Geneva is almost 
level ; in one place, a beautiful fall of water, called 
the Cascade of Arpenas, tumbles into the valley, like 
the Staubbach, fro^ri the top of a perpendicular cliff. 
There is also a grotto, or cave, called La Balme, of 
which, in passing, we see the mouth. At the town of 
Cluses we passed through a gap where the mountains 
come near together. From Sallenches to Geneva, we 
rode on the top of the diligence which goes between 
those places. We arrived at Geneva just before sun- 
down ; and here, to my great satisfaction, I found two 
letters from home, which had been forwarded, by my 
direction, from London. Following our usual plan, 
we took rooms in front at the Hotel de Bergues, a 
splendid house, the front windows of which com- 
mand a view of Mont Blanc, and look down upon 
the Rhone ; beside having the greatest part of the city 
in sight, on the opposite side of the river. 

On Sunday morning, at eight o'clock, w r e attended 
worship in Calvin's church, the old Cathedral of St. 
Peter. It is a large and fine building, and the interior 
is very handsome ; the exterior is plain, and has 
nothing remarkable about it. There happened to be 
on this occasion, a public fast appointed by the central 
government of Switzerland, to be kept in all the can- 
tons. This fast is kept by going to church, shutting 
all the shops, and walking. The large cathedral was 
crowded full, and here I saw a fashion which surprised 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 



207 



me, a number of the gentlemen keeping on their hats 
during the service. This custom in Europe has ori- 
ginated from the fact, that few of the churches are 
ever warmed ; which again is probably owing to their 
great size, which would render it very difficult. The 
sermon this morning was on the love of country, and 
the duties of a citizen, and was delivered with a good 
deal of oratorical effect ; but in substance was about 
equal to a class oration at an American college. 
There was an abundance of common-places about 
virtue being the only stay of a nation, and the duty 
of citizens to maintain and support their country by 
living righteous and good lives. I should think there 
were two thousand people in the church ; the nave, 
choir, and transepts being all well filled. 

After church I found the concierge of the building, 
and ascended one of the towers, from whence I had a 
good view of the city and vicinity. The concierge 
pointed out all the places of historical interest in the 
vicinity ; showing me where Byron and Madame de 
Stael and Gibbon had lived, pointing out Rousseau's 
island, &c. 'Now,' said I, 'show me where Servetus 
was burned.'' He pointed to the place, but said, ' Sir, 
you must not think that Calvin burnt Servetus ; ' and 
proceeded with great volubility to mention the facts 
usually quoted in excuse of Calvin. Mr. C. touched 
my arm, and said, 'You had better not argue the 
point.' So we descended without any attempt to dis- 
turb bis hero-worship. 

I went home to my hotel to write letters ; after 
which I sat at my window during a good part of the 
warm Sunday afternoon, enjoying the fine prospect. 



208 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

Directly below the window was the swift and blue 
waters of the Rhone, which here issues from Lake 
Leman, — 'The blue and arrowy Rhone,' as Byron 
calls it. The water is so clear that I could see to its 
bottom, and the boats on its surface seemed to float in 
the air. A fine bridge on stone piers crossed the river, 
from the middle of which a shorter bridge went to a 
little island covered with poplars and other trees, called 
the Island of Jean Jacques. On the other side of the 
river rises the city along the side of the hill, on which 
it is chiefly built. St. Peter's Church stands about half 
way up, with two large towers and a central turret. 
Beyond is a very steep hill, whose crags overhang the 
city, and still further off the long range of snowy Alps 
visible, with Mont Blanc towering distinct above them 
all. It was a lovely scene, and I wished that I could put 
it on paper, either with pen or pencil, and take it away. 
Had I known at the time that Colame the artist, whose 
views of Switzerland are so admirable, resided in 
Geneva, I should have endeavored to find him, and to 
obtain some specimens of his art. 

The weather still continued very warm and pleas- 
ant, although we were in the middle of September. In 
my letter from home, a north-east storm of three days' 
duration was mentioned, which was difficult for me to 
realize, since, during the time I had been in Europe, 
it had not rained where I was for more than half a day 
at a time. On Sunday evening I took a walk through 
the old streets of the city, and found it still warm as 
midsummer. We had been living on grapes, and 
peaches, and figs for several days. 

We dined at six to-day at the table d'hote ; the only 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 209 

objection to which was, the length of time occupied, 
which was an hour and a half. In Switzerland, in the 
large hotels, there are commonly two table d'hote 
dinners; one of them at half after twelve for the 
Germans, the other at six for the English. This is 
convenient for travellers, who can select the dining- 
hour which is most convenient to themselves. 

We left Geneva on Monday morning, taking a 
steam-boat up the lake to Villeneuve, at its upper 
extremity. Lake Leman was as lovely as a bride on 
her way to the ' altar, in its pale and serene lights, 
while we sailed over a surface so smooth and clear, 
that the usual similes of glass, crystal, and mirrors, 
quite break down and come to nothing as illustrations. 
We walked from Villeneuve to Vevay, along the bank 
of the lake, which was then as lovely as the same 
radiant bride blushing with happy love as she returns 
from the altar. The vapory air, full of warm sun- 
light, melted mountains and lake into one, in a joyful 
embrace. The mountains rose around, grand and 
strong, of the royal Alpine family, but so softened by 
their affection for the sweet lake, that they partook of 
her winning ways, and shone hazy, purple, bright or 
dark, with each changing light. The sun assisted at 
this love-feast, and shot his rays through the clouds 
and the rifts of the mountains, carrying messages from 
the rocks of Meillerie to the deep bays which nestled 
in their shadow. We walked among vineyards, and 
bought, for the smallest sums, immense clusters of ripe 
grapes of the choice Vevay variety. Villas, cottages, 
English country-seats, French hotels, crowded the 
banks, and had taken possession of the hill-tops. One 
14 



210 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

fine house, with gardens, conservatories, and gateway- 
lodge, was to be let furnished, as an inscription on the 
gate indicated. So I stopped and asked the price. It 
was two thousand francs by the year, or about four 
hundred dollars. I wished to live in it, for it stood 
finely, above the lake, — and where else but in Clarens ! 

1 Clarens, sweet Clarens ! birth-place of deep love, 

Thine air is the young breath of passionate thought, 

Thy trees take root in love ; the snows above 

The very glaciers have his colors caught, 

And sunset into rose-hues sees them wrought 

By rays which sleep there lovingly. The rocks, 

The permanent crags, tell here of love, who sought 

In them a refuge from the worldly shocks 

Which stir and sting the soul with hope that woos, then mocks.' 

On our walk from Villeneuve to Vevay, along the 
shore of Lake Lernan, a walk which lies along the 
steep hills terraced with vineyards, we passed the 
ancient Castle of Chillon, also made famous by the 
immortal muse of Byron. We went through the castle, 
and saw the dungeon which is described by Byron in 
his ' Prisoner of Chillon.'' The sides and roof are of 
stone, vaulted and supported in the middle by a row 
of round stone pillars. The castle stands partly in the 
lake, and the floor of this prison is below the surface 
of the water. They show you the gallows on which 
the prisoners were hung, and the oubliette or dungeon 
into which they were precipitated. One of these places 
in this castle gives you some idea of the fiendish cru- 
elty of the middle ages, or l Ages of Faith,' as they 
are sometimes called. There is an opening in the 
floor, with steps apparently descending to the room 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 211 

below. The prisoner was told that he was to be set 
,free, and he was directed to go down these steps. But 
they terminate with the third, and the miserable wretch 
felt some twenty feet upon an apparatus armed with 
knives and spears to receive him. Wise was the man 
who wrote, ' Say not, Why were the former days better 
than these ? ' 

Our guide through this castle was a young woman, 
who had taught herself to speak English, in order 
to talk to travellers. She discovered that we were 
Americans by our enunciation. She said she could 
understand 4 the American language' better than 'the 
English.' This confirmed me in the opinion, that 
the English speak more rapidly and with less distinct- 
ness than ourselves. We walked slowly on, enjoying 
at every step the glassy surface of the lake, and the 
soft lights lying along the hills. Every thing in this 
region talked to us of Rousseau, that wonderful man, — 
misunderstood, despised, disliked by the men of his 
own time, and wondered at as a phenomenon they 
could not understand. The simple explanation of his 
whole history was this, — that he did not belong to his 
own age. He was possessed and ruled by ideas which 
are the ideas of the nineteenth century, and which in 
the eighteenth only excited hostility and derision. He 
is commonly classed with Deists, but in his spirit he 
was as distant from the cold, deistic skepticism of 
Voltaire, as from the earthly atheism of Diderot. Both 
of them accused him of being too religious ; and he 
himself claimed to be a Christian. His famous passage 
concerning the character of Christ, in ' The Profession 
of Faith of a Savoyard Vicar,' resumes, in a few brief 



212 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

vivid lines, the strongest argument for the truth of Chris- 
tianity which has ever been stated. It is the argument 
from the character of Jesus, and consists of two simple 
statements. First, — That the character of Jesus, if 
real, is not human, but divine; and, Second, — That 
it must be real, for the invention of such a character 
would be as extraordinary as its existence. The mira- 
cles of Jesus, Rousseau neither denies nor affirms, 
but professes himself to be in doubt concerning them. 
Yet it was because of this book containing these state- 
ments, that a process of heresy was instituted against 
him by the Archbishop of Paris, and he was compel- 
led to fly in the night from that city, and take up his 
residence in Switzerland. Meantime the works of 
deists and atheists were published and circulated, and 
neither the works nor their authors were pursued by 
the ecclesiastical power. In his exile, at Neufcha- 
tel, l Rousseau asked leave of the Protestant pastor of 

1 Rousseau was, in 1762, first driven from Geneva, after- 
wards from Yverdun by the government of Berne. He found 
a refuge at Motier, in the Valley of Travers, under the protec- 
tion of Lord Keith, Governor of Neufchatel. While here, the 
King of Prussia offered him a pension of £100, which he 
declined, preferring to maintain himself by copying music, 
than to forfeit his independence. Driven from Motier, after a 
three years' residence, by a popular tumult, he took refuge in 
the Island of St. Peter, in the Lake of Bienne, from which he 
was expelled, at the end of two months, by the intolerant de- 
cree of the government of Berne. Dr. Johnson, the high tory, 
in his Dictionary, defined ' Pension, — a bribe paid by govern- 
ment to make traitors ; ' and then took from a whig king a 
pension of £300 per annum, and ever after spoke well of the 
king. Which is the most respectable character, — the high- 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 213 

the village in which he was living, to partake of the 
Lord's Supper with the other communicants, and ex- 
presses his satisfaction at being allowed fellowship by 
a Christian community. There are few things more 
brilliant and unanswerable than his l Letters from the 
Mountain,' addressed to the Archbishop of Paris on the 
occasion of this banishment. In controversial litera- 
ture it stands only second to the 'Provincial Letters' 
of Pascal. Byron calls Rousseau a ' self-torturing 
sophist.' Rousseau may have been an inspired mad- 
man, but he was no sophist ; for no man ever believed 
his own assertions more strongly than he. This is the 
whole secret of his eloquence ; this fills his words with 
fire. Rousseau was the prophet going before the nine- 
teenth century, and crying in the arid wilderness of 
the eighteenth ; announcing the coming of an age of 
faith to an age of skepticism, preaching a gospel of 
love to the disciples of selfishness. i The Gospel of 
Jean Jacques,' as Carlyle scoffingly calls it, was not, 
indeed the gospel of Christ ; but it was much more like 
it, than the Christianity which surrounded him. The 
hatred or determined opposition which Rousseau en- 
countered from such men as Marmontel, Diderot, 
Hume, and Voltaire, shows that they, — more saga- 
cious than the Christian church, — understood well 
how fatal to their system of unbelief would be the 
triumph of his ideas. 

We are probably not yet in a condition to estimate 
the beneficial influence which these ideas of Rousseau 

toned English moralist and orthodox Christian living on his 
pension, or poor Rousseau copying music? 



214 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

have exercised in the various departments of science. 
Probably, more than any one else, he has effected the 
revolution, which consists in substituting the methods of 
Nature, for the arbitrary systems of the Schools. The 
whole science of education is indebted to him for the 
impulse which has caused so many improvements in 
methods of teaching during the present century, and 
especially for that most important idea of all — the 
idea of education as development, not instruction. In 
a notice of Von Raumer's History of Education, in the 
' Studien und Kritiken,' for 1846, it is said that Rous- 
seau represents l the reaction of human nature against 
a stiff dogmatism and an external form of worship ; 
against an over-refinement and artificial life in society, 
and against a hard pedantry in the schools.' That the 
views of Rousseau were narrow, that he exaggerated 
the natural excellence of the human heart, and that 
his own conduct was in many respects extremely 
faulty, may well be granted. His sending his chil- 
dren to the Foundling Hospital, his connection with 
Madame Warren, his foolish marriage with Theresa 
la Vaseur, show how little he understood the value of 
marriage, and of the Christian family. The excuse 
which Raumer makes for him, that he himself had 
never known the care of a mother, or the blessings of 
a home, deserves consideration ; as well as the remark, 
that Rousseau, in the midst of the refined sensuality 
of his time, kept himself for the most part free from 
the excesses of the society around him, and preserved 
a healthy body, and a soul open to the ideas which he 
held it his mission to express and diffuse. JBut the 
chief excuse for Rousseau's extravagance, must be 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 215 

found in the natural conformation of his mind. His 
genius was a wild Pegasus which ran away with him-; 
there was wanting in him that faculty of good sense, 
that healthy understanding, which mediates between 
the world of ideas and the world of facts. He saw 
more profoundly than any man of his time (if we, 
perhaps, except Swcdenborg in theology, and Kant 
in philosophy,) the ideas of the coming age, and he 
expressed, more eloquently than any man of his 
century, these ideas. That he did not possess also 
the sharp sagacity of Franklin, or the healthy under- 
standing of Goethe, cannot be accounted his fault; 
though the mistakes and misfortunes of his life may, 
in a large measure, be ascribed to it. Baur (in the 
review to which I have referred) compares the coming 
of Rousseau in the realm of thought, to that of the 
French Revolution in the realm of politics. Both 
events were attended by terrible errors ; but both 
poured a fullness of new life into the lethargy which 
oppressed mankind, and gave posterity, after it should 
emerge from the wild conflict of the time to a truer 
peace, new materials for thoughtful study and use. 
So much, on Lake Leman, I feel moved to say of the 
man of genius and sorrow, whose muse has immor- 
talized her shores. 

Vevay stands on the borders of the lake, and many 
of the houses have porticoes and balconies which over- 
look it. We stopped to dine here at about six, P. M., 
in a fine large hotel of the first order. The roof of 
the hall was supported by marble pillars ; the cham- 
bers were finely finished and furnished, each with 
double doors to exclude noise ; and I noticed that the 



216 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

table d'hote was illuminated with costly mechanical 
lamps. After dinner we went on in a voiture which 
we took from Vevay to Freiburg, thirty-six miles. 
The way was mostly up hill, and we stopped at Bulle 
at night. In the church-yard at Vevay are the monu- 
ments of Ludlow and Broughton, two of King Charles 
I.'s judges. 

Tuesday, September 18, we left Bulle at six and a 
half, and arrived at Freiburg at half after nine. The 
day as usual was bright and warm. Freiburg stands, 
situated in a very picturesque manner, on the summit 
of a crag, round which flows the river Sane, a branch 
of the Aar ; and is surrounded by old walls and 
peaked towers, which find hard work in standing on 
the steep sides of the hill. 

Freiburg is a most picturesque old place, with its 
towers perched around it on every rock, and its walls 
clinging for dear life to the steep hill-sides, and armed 
to the teeth with its old bastions and turrets. But then, 
to spoil all the sport, come some modern engineers, 
and hang two suspension bridges quite across these 
deep ravines, and so make its walls and towers of not 
the smallest use. Well, they are still very pictur- 
esque, and so are the two bridges, nine hundred and 
seven hundred feet long, suspended by wire cables 
from stone towers one hundred and seventy feet above 
the valleys, and looking quite delicate as seen from 
below or above. I walked over these bridges down 
to the ' Gorge de Gotteron,' over which one passes 
on one of them, and from which are fine views of 
the picturesque old city, and then came back over 
an old bridge into the lower town. From this to the 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 



217 



upper town, the street is so steep that it is actually- 
made into stairs all the way up. At the c Zahringer 
Hof,' a large and fine hotel close to the suspension 
bridge, where we staid, I found a Mr. P. of London, 
who knew many of my friends, and who was just 
making up a party to go and hear the famous organ. 
The organist played about half an hour ; and the 
instrument is certainly very melodious and powerful, 
combining sweetness and strength in a high degree. 
The deepest and loudest notes do not growl and grum- 
ble, but are as pure and musical as the soft ones The 
human-voice stop is very good and natural. 

Leaving Freiburg in a voiture at half after one, we 
went on to the old city of Berne, where we arrived 
at six and passed the night. 

Berne, with its Bears, and old Minster, and lovely 
walks between avenues of chestnuts, walnuts, and 
lindens, — but above all, with its snowy Alps in the 
distance, and its historic associations, remains in my 
memory as a place of peculiar interest. It is a small, 
old-fashioned city, with narrow streets, and curious 
houses, built on arcades somewhat like those of Ches- 
ter. We reached Berne just before sunset, and walked 
out of the city gate to some fine groves and avenues 
of trees ; saw a rosy collection of clouds, but saw 
not the Alps which were hidden by mist. Next morn- 
ing t was out before sunrise, and went to the high 
platform behind the Minster, from which are seen the 
fine range of high Alps of the Bernese Oberland. I 
saw their white summits, first pale, then rosy in the 
early light. They were my old acquaintances of the 
Jungfrau chain, but from no point of view before, had 



218 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

I seen them, as now, all together. On the left, was 
the Wetterhorn, or Peak of Tempest ; then rising 
sharp and alone, the Peak of Terror, or Schreckhorn ; 
a little further to the right, the Finsteraarhorn ; then 
the two Giants, great and small, and then the accumu- 
lated snowy masses, out of which arose the Jungfrau. 
Further to the right was a succession of snowy peaks, 
terminating in the Blumlis Alp; in front of which, 
but not so lofty, stood the dark pyramid of Niessen. 
From this platform I looked down on my old friend the 
Aar, which runs immediately below. The burghers 
of Berne have fine gardens, terraced down the steep 
banks to the side of the river. We were glad to see 
again our old acquaintance the Aar, which, having 
long ago left its glacier source in the Peak of Storms, 
and flowed through many a mountain valley ; having 
thundered down a dreadful precipice at Handeck, and 
thought it all fine sport ; having loitered in Lake 
Brienz, enchanted with its beauty, and then, (to make 
up for lost time,) having run hastily through half a 
dozen streets of Unterseen, not stopping a moment in 
Lake Thun to admire the pyramid of Niessen ; now 
goes tranquilly and gravely on, winding about Berne, 
and carefully picking its way among the stones. One 
would think it had never known such wild sport at all, 
and would be afraid of a fall six feet high. Ah ! 
roguish river, you cannot cheat us with your pretended 
gravity. Did we not see you at all your mad sport in 
the Grirnsel ; did we not walk by your side for many 
a long mile, when you would not be still for a single 
rod, but must run, and tumble, and foam all the way? 
Were we not by, when at last you found a playmate, 






ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 219 

and both of you leapt together pell-mell, down that 
dreadful chasm, tumbling over each other as though 
you were merely rolling down a sunny bank ? We 
saw all that, most demure of streams ; we saw how 
glad you were to get away from your stern mother the 
glacier, and your dark father the Peak of Storms ; 
a gentleman and lady of the old school they, who 
maintain grave state from age to age, quite careless of 
the opinions of Messrs. Agassiz and Desor, but much 
bemoaning the changes of modern times, and the 
misbehavior of their riotous children, the mountain 
streams. 

This platform behind the Minster is planted with 
trees, and in the middle stands an equestrian statue, 
richly gilt, of some heroic knight of the middle ages, 
I forget who, probably some Duke of Zahringen, or 
other founder of the city. In front of the Minster 
are handsome bronze casts, the size of life, of the 
patron saints of Berne, that is, the Bears. Bears are 
much reverenced in this place ; for the city is sup- 
posed to have taken its name from them. Just outside 
of one of the gates is a place where bears are main- 
tained at the expense of the city, and it is related by 
the authentic Murray, that a wealthy lady left her 
whole fortune for the support of these city bears. Cer- 
tainly patriotism sometimes takes remarkable forms. 
Abouf a mile beyond this Gate of Bears, is a high plat- 
form, shaded by grand trees, from which you have a 
good view of the Berne and its walls, and a better 
one of the high Alps than from the Minster platform. 
This place is called 'The Enge,' and is well worth 
visiting. All these things I saw before breakfast, and 



220 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

afterward went through the old Minster and to its top, 
as was my wont, and saw an old clock in the street, 
surrounded with figures, go through its various evolu- 
tions. The cathedral is ancient, and contains some 
rich carved wood, and a tower built by Erwin, the 
Strasburg architect. 

At eleven o'clock in the forenoon we departed from 
Berne in a voiture, on Our way to Basle through 
Soleure. The Canton of Berne, through which we 
were now travelling, is the largest and the most im- 
portant of the Swiss cantons. The Protestant religion 
is established here. The city of Berne was built by 
the Duke of Zahringen about the year 1200, and from 
the first has possessed many privileges. In 1353, the 
city and canton of Berne joined the Helvetic Confede- 
racy, of which it has ever since been a leading State. 
The country through which we passed on our way to 
Soleure, is fertile and well cultivated. We rode among 
fine orchards, and rich groves of beech. At Soleure 
we saw a fine cathedral, which is modern. 1 Riding 
on, we passed through a gap in the Jura chain, where 
stood the ruins of three castles ; all which, in ancient 
times, levied tolls on the travellers passing through. 
At Bodsthal, a small village, we took tea, and then 
rode on to Waldenburg, where we passed a night at 
an inn, marked as ' tolerable' by Mr. Murray. 

Leaving Waldenburg early, we arrived at Basle at 



1 Soleure is said by some antiquaries to have been built by 
the patriarch Abraham This is doubtful The cathedral was 
finished in 1772, and cost $400,000. It is in the Corinthian 
and Composite orders. 



,i 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 221 

ten. This is another ancient city surrounded with 
many fortifications. We drove to ' The Three Kings,' 
a spacious and splendid hotel. There is in this house 
a private chapel for the benefit of English travellers, 
where the Church of England service is read. The 
Cathedral of Basle is a very old and interesting build- 
ing. There is a room in one part, in which the Council 
of Basle met four hundred years ago ; a council which 
deposed the Pope. The furniture remains exactly as 
it was at that time, except that a bust of Erasmus 
stands in the middle of the room. I sat on the old 
benches, and went back in my mind four hundred 
years, and imagining myself a member of the council, 
considered what opinion I should give about the depo- 
sition of the Pope when it came to my turn. Then I 
looked at the bust of Erasmus and said, — What busi- 
ness has that scoffer and innovator among us ? After- 
ward we went into the crypt below the Minster, and 
immediately I was obliged to think myself back four 
hundred years more ; for that place was built in the 
eleventh century. I walked up and down through the 
shadowy vault, and thought, with alarm, that in four 
hundred years a council would be held above to depose 
the Pope. I had got so far back then as to be quite 
out of sight of Erasmus and the Reformation. 

I love the crypts, or hidden subterraneous churches 
underneath these old churches. Solid, compact, with 
nothing of decoration, no high altars with gilding and 
carving, no Madonna in muslin petticoats, they seem 
to belong to the era of primitive religion ; of the strong 
faith which dwelt among the roots of things. They 
impress me in the same way as mountains. Like 



222 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 



mountains, useless for all common purposes, they are 
the foundations of all use. A mountain gives you 
neither grain nor apples, but it gives you rivers which 
make the meadows green for hundreds of miles. You 
neither preach nor celebrate mass in a crypt ; but on 
its solid columns rests the church in which the pious 
multitude pray, and the solemn organ sounds the note 
of praise. 

It was my purpose, while in Basle, to visit Dr. De 
Wette, and I went into a bookstore to inquire where he 
lived. It seems his son is also a professor in the Uni- 
versity of Basle ; and the bookseller, thinking I was 
inquiring for the son, directed me to his house. I 
then asked for the concluding parts of De Wette's 
Commentary. Said the bookseller, ' Do you mean 
the father ? ' I told him, yes. ' Mais il est mort,' said 
he, with a look of surprise. This gave me a shock, 
for it was the first I had heard of his death ; the news 
having been carried to America in the steamer which 
arrived a day or two after I sailed for Europe. If I 
had heard of it at home, it would probably have made 
less impression; but to visit a city with the intention 
of seeing a man, and thinking of what you shall say to 
him, and then, on inquiring the way to his house, to be 
told of his death, makes one feel the uncertainty of 
existence. To me De Wette was alive ; but three 
months had passed since his funeral, and to every one 
else he was gone. His place was filled, and his de- 
parture had ceased to be a subject of conversation or 
thought. So man sinks in the flood and disappears, 
and his stirring and working go too. It seems so to 
mortal eye, yet with God nothing is lost. I bought 



,1 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 223 

one of the pamphlets published after his death, con- 
taining, as with us, the eulogies, speeches and services 
at his funeral. It contained a poem he wrote a year 
or two before his death, in which (he was nearly 
seventy) he expressed the feeling that he had accom- 
plished little in the world. It sounded like the words 
of a disappointed man. Yet he was the author of a 
multitude of works, all thought highly of; he was one 
of the most learned theologians in Europe ; he achieved 
distinction in his youth, and worked on till his death. 
But I see well how it may all have appeared to him as 
nothing. Miss Baillie has some touching lines on the 
feeling of disappointment with which a great man 
hears his famous actions spoken of; they come so far 
below his own ideal, for 

' His noblest deed had once another, 
Of high imagination born ; 
A loftier and an elder brother 
From, dear existence torn.' 

The ambition whose last aim is worldly fame or tem- 
poral success, grasps a fruit which turns to ashes in 
the hand. Better would it be if genius would aim 
at accomplishing what it can in God's service and for 
man's good ; seeking only, as Sir Thomas Browne 
says, ' to be found in the records of God, not the chron- 
icles of man.' 

Basle was the residence and birth-place of Holbein, 
the famous painter and engraver, who afterward went 
to England, and died there of the plague in 1554. 
There is a new museum in Basle, which contains many 
of his paintings, as well as some fine modern drawings 
and frescoes. Holbein's style is pure and noble ; hard 



224 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

indeed, sometimes, as was to be expected in that early 
period of art, but always earnest and lofty, and often 
filled with a tender grace. You see where Retsch 
studied for his men and women. There is a Dead 
Christ here of Holbein's, terribly faithful to nature ; 
some fine portraits of Erasmus, and a Last Supper, 
which is original throughout. Here Judas is the princi- 
pal figure, and is dressed like a mendicant friar. But 
the finest of Holbein's paintings is a picture of his wife 
and children, which is indeed admirable. All these 
things we saw before dinner, which we took at the 
one o'clock table d'hote. The only objections to these 
dinners are, that they are too long and too good. No 
one, to be sure, eats of every thing which is handed 
him, but you must wait, in that case, while others are 
eating it. The golden mean would be about half way 
between one of these two-hour dinners, and those in 
our American hotels which are devoured in five 
minutes. 

After dinner we walked all over the city, which is 
full of old and curious buildings, and departed by 
rail at half after four, for Freiburg in Baden, bidding 
farewell to Switzerland, in which we had during three 
weeks enjoyed so much. 

We reached Freiburg at half after eight, and I went 
directly to see, by starlight again, the old cathedral 
which I had first seen by moonlight. By starlight it 
has a grander, more solemn aspect. It rises from 
earth, not like a building, but an organic growth. 
This tower and spire seems the type of a pure, serene 
soul, — a soul forever tending upward, which has 
passed above all raptures, which has gone beyond the 



.1 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 225 

sphere of effort, and rests in the love of the Highest. 
It is what an old Platonist says of piety, ' The flight of 
one alone to the Only One,' — «£vyij uuiov ti<>o$ ror i<o>or. 
Men come and go around the base of this great tower 
by day ; girls and women sell peaches and grapes in 
front of it ; soldiers drill ; children play ; and it stands 
lifted above all by its upward tendency. Solemn night 
comes, and it stands all night on its lonely watch, 
catching star after star in its net of stone, receiving 
storm and thunder, the last sun-beam of evening, and 
the first of the morning. It heeds them not, nor the 
song of the birds which nestle among its carvings, nor 
the anthems which roll up from the church beneath. 
It belongs to a region above the impulses of nature 
and of piety. I too, as I look at it, would stand still 
beside it. All impatience leaves me ; I wish for no 
change ; I wish to be and continue as 1 am. I would 
stand with it for the next six hundred years, and count 
that time well spent in fathoming its one thought of 
adoration and love. Such were my feelings while I 
remained to-night, taking my last look at this stately 
creation of Christian art. 

We left Freiburg the next morning at six ; saw the 
lofty spire of Strasburg on our left as we passed on ; 
received into our car some fashionable gentlemen, in 
white kid gloves, from Baden-Baden ; went through 
Carlsruhe, the residence of the Grand Duke of Baden, 
without stopping; and arrived at Heidelberg at one 
o'clock ; having come a hundred and fifty miles by 
rail, and so experienced the truth of the French say- 
ing, that 'Travelling by rail is an excellent method of 
arriving? In travelling by railroads, you can indeed 
15 



226 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

see very little of the country through which you pass ; 
but by hurrying over uninteresting regions, you have 
all the more time for the places you wish to see. Of 
these places Heidelberg was one. One of my friends, 
a man of consummate taste, had told me that, in his 
judgment, the Castle of Heidelberg had given him 
greater pleasure than any thing else he had seen in 
Europe. I cannot say this ; for to me the high Alps 
must always take the precedence of every thing else, 
but the half day spent at Heidelberg remains in my 
mind a vision of pure beauty. In going to the castle, 
we first ascended a hill above it, from which there is 
an extensive view along the Valley of the Neckar. 
From this we descended to the castle itself, which is 
an immense pile of buildings standing on the side of a 
hill above the town, and all in ruins. Yet it was not 
ruined by time, as was Kenilworth or Conway, but 
destroyed by the hand of man. A building of such 
enormous strength, and so situated, that you think it 
might have resisted every thing but the gnawing tooth 
of centuries, is here torn in pieces, and utterly demol- 
ished by the ruthless policy of kings and generals. 
You feel pity for the old castle, and wish to turn away 
your eyes, as when a hero is beaten in battle, or the 
champion of a hundred fights is vanquished and dis- 
graced. But the lovely gardens included within the 
walls, the splendid view from its towers and terraces, 
and its own imposing aspect, makes the summer's 
afternoon spent among the ruins a thing to be always 
remembered with delight. 

Entering the gate of the castle, you find a vast 
space within the walls filled with great trees. Here 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 227 

were the ancient gardens of the castle, which was the 
Palace of the Electors Palatine. It has been five 
times bombarded; once during the thirty years 1 war by 
the ferocious general of the Imperialists, Tilly ; again 
by the Swedes, and afterward by the French. One 
of the large towers built in 1533, and the walls of 
which are twenty-two feet thick, was destroyed by the 
French in 1689. Another they undermined and blew 
up ; but the walls were so thick that it merely split 
asunder, and half of the tower fell in one piece into 
the ditch, where it still remains. But after having been 
three times burned and ten times taken, the castle was 
finally destroyed by lightning in 1764. Part of this 
building is very old, and was erected in 1300 by the 
Elector Rudolph. The teeth of the portcullis are still 
seen over your head as you pass through its archway. 
Another part of the castle, built in 1550, is in the finest 
style of Italian architecture, of the period of the Re- 
maissance, and the front is covered with rich sculpture. 
Another part still, built by the Elector Frederic IV. in 
1607, is also very richly adorned, and its southern 
facade is ornamented with the statues of the ancestors 
of the Electoral family from the time of Charlemagne. 
There is, moreover, an English palace, as it is called, 
from its having been built for the reception of the 
daughter of James I., Elizabeth Stuart, wife of the 
Elector Frederic V., afterward King of Bohemia, 
whose ambition and misfortunes make a touching page 
in the history of the seventeeth century. 

Entering the castle from the gardens, I was carried 
through the interior apartments by my guide, a young 
lady somewhat pert in her manners. So, instead of 



228 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

spending my time in looking at the great Heidelberg 
tun, which contains eight hundred hogsheads, I got 
away from the prattling damsel, and seated myself on 
the summit of one of the old towers. The day was 
as bright as midsummer, and soft sunlight rested on 
the old red walls, which were stored with memories of 
overthrown magnificence and power. One is filled 
with a sense of loss, and 'vanitas vanitatum ' is writ- 
ten over them all. This palace of dukes and kings — 
in situation, and splendor, and historic recollections 
one of the noblest in Europe — is now inhabited by a 
cooper and his gossipping daughters. Yet, luxuriant 
as ever, the lordly trees expand their branches ; fresh 
as ever, the vine hangs its green ringlets along the 
shattered walls ; sweetly sleeps the sunlight of the 
summer day upon its towers ; and if no lords and 
ladies, yet many a pretty Heidelberg lassie, and many 
a wandering traveller like myself, enjoy pleasant mo- 
ments in these noble spaces. A fine military band 
plays every afternoon in the gardens, which were filled 
with dancers and revellers. 

Leaving the castle, I went down by a foot-path into 
the town which lies beneath it, and crossing the Neckar 
on a bridge, passed up through the vineyards to the 
side of the opposite hill. Here I sat and saw the 
sunset, the rosy light of which illuminated the statues 
and carvings of the castle opposite. Then it fell dark, 
and I walked back to the hotel through the town, pass- 
ing on the way the very plain front of the Heidelberg 
University building, which stands in a small square 
near the middle of the town. The University itself is 
one of the oldest in Germany, and quite distinguished. 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 2-29 

Its Library contains 1'20,000 volumes. A regiment of 
Prussian soldiers was going through its drill in front 
of the building ; for the town was strongly garrisoned, 
some of the professors and students having taken part 
in the late insurrection. 

Next morning we left Heidelberg by rail, at six, and 
arrived at Frankfort-on-the-Maine at half past nine. 
Here we staid a day and a half, and enjoyed ourselves 
much, for Frankfort is full of objects of interest. We 
took rooms at the Mainlust, a pleasant house, with 
gardens in front of it overlooking the Maine, and in 
the neighborhood of the Quays, where are the palaces 
of the rich Frankfort bankers and merchants, which 
are larger and finer than many noblemen's houses in 
London. The objects of interest which we visited in 
this city, were, the Statue of Ariadne, the Cathedral, 
the Town House, the Steudel Museum, the Jews' 
Street, the Cemetery, and the house of Goethe. The 
Statue of Ariadne, by Dannecker, a noble production 
of modern art, is kept in a small pavilion in the 
garden of Mr. Beth man to whom it belongs. The 
Ariadne lies stretched on the back of one of the pan- 
thers of Bacchus, who carries his lovely burden 
proudly, and with a face full of proud joy looks up 
the noble wife toward her divine husband. This 
statue suggests many thoughts, if in the mythology 
of the Greeks, Apollo and Bacchus stand related as 
genius and geniality, then this German Ariadne may 
represent the marriage of the lofty German muse with 
the glow of southern enthusiasm. When this wedlock 
is accomplished, when the genius of the North, pure 
and lofty, is animated by the fire of the South, then 



230 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

will poetry take a higher rank than ever. The poet 
will once again, and in a higher sense than ever, be 
the prophet ; and poetry will be more than a parlor 
recreation : it will lead the civilization of the world. 

The Dom, or Cathedral, in Frankfort, is very old, 
having been built in the thirteenth and fourteenth cen- 
turies, and is also celebrated as being the place where 
the German Emperors were elected and crowned. 
The chapel in which they were elected, is a small 
room opening into the church. The coronation took 
place in front of the high altar. We went into the 
pulpit from which St. Bernard preached the crusade, 
and felt ourselves once more carried backward to 
ancient times. Just outside of the cathedral is the 
market-place ; and from a window which looks into 
this, Luther preached to the people. This window, 
which is an oriel, resembles a pulpit not a little ; and 
Luther no doubt chose the house for his residence on 
its account. The market-place is filled with stalls, in 
which all sorts of wares are sold, such as shoes, and 
tin, and wood. From the cathedral we went to the 
town-house, and saw the banqueting-hall where the 
emperors were entertained after their coronation : all 
of which places reminded us of Goethe's description 
of the coronation which he witnessed when a boy. 
The walls of the banqueting room are covered with 
portraits of the emperors in the order of their succes- 
sion, and the portrait of the last German Emperor just 
filled the last panel in the room. After having seen 
all these things — having stood in St. Bernard's pulpit, 
sat in the Emperor's chair, and looked down from the 
top of the cathedral-tower, where at a height of two 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 231 

hundred and sixty feet a family reside, whose food 
is conveyed up to them along a wire — I went to find 
the house where Goethe was horn, and where he 
passed his childhood. While I was looking at the 
front, a young man opened the door. I went up to 
him, and asked if I might look into the inner court. 
He said yes ; and added, that perhaps I might see 
the house ; he would ask. So he went and obtained 
leave, and then showed me up stairs to the attic which 
was the young Goethe's chamber, and the desk on 
which he wrote Werter. This was pleasant ; for his 
description of his father's house was so fresh in my 
mind, that I seemed to know it like an old acquaint- 
ance. In a book which lay on the table were the 
names of those who had visited the chamber. Under 
ours I added these lines from one of Goethe's lyrics : 

' Und dein Streben sey die Liebe, 
Und dein Leben sey die That ; ' 

that is to say, 

' Let love be thy motive, 
And action thy life.' 

The Steudel Museum contains many fine paintings 
well worth visiting ; some ancient, and some modern. 
The ancient pictures are by such artists as Matsys, 
Albert Durer, Holbein and Hobbima. The modern 
pictures are by the Dusseldorf artists, and other modern 
German painters. Among these are some fine pic- 
tures by Lessing, and a beautiful representation of the 
Parable of the Ten Virgins, by Schadow, the Presi- 
dent of the Dusseldorf Academy. This picture repre- 
sents the five foolish virgins on the left hand, who 



232 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

have failed asleep. They are very graceful, and if 
foolish, are still very pretty. One has been crowned 
queen, but, as she sleeps, her crown is sliding from her 
head. On the other side are the wisa virgins, who 
have arisen, and are coming forward with their lamps 
lighted ; and above, in the centre, the gates are being 
opened for the entrance of the Saviour and his com- 
pany. The taste of the artist is shown chiefly in the 
attitudes and expression of the virgins. Those who 
are awake look gentle and modest, showing no pride, 
and giving themselves no airs ; those who are awaking 
look startled and agitated. You love the one and pity 
the other. 

On Sunday morning, at nine, w r e attended worship 
at St. Catharine's Church. The interior is a large 
oblong square, lofty, with high windows, and groined 
ceiling. On three sides are two rows of galleries ; on 
the fourth is a highly ornamented and gilded pulpit, 
with gilded cherubs on the sounding-board; and the 
wall is hung with shields and escutcheons of the Frank- 
fort burghers. In this church Luther is said to have 
preached ; though I doubt with less pleasure than from 
the window in the Dom Platz. But I was glad to have 
attended worship in three churches, in which Zwingle, 
Calvin, and Luther, had declared those truths which 
shook the power of Rome, when Rome ruled the 
world. 



CHAPTER X. 

THE RHINE AND BELGIUM. 

We left Frankfort in the afternoon, on a little steam- 
boat which went down the Maine to Mayence, and 
thence to Bingen on the Rhine, where we were to 
pass the night. The finest scenery on the Rhine lies 
between Mayence and Bonn, and this is usually all 
that travellers want to see. The sun was approaching 
his setting as our steamboat crawled slowly along the 
smooth surface of the Maine, and the yellow light, 
illuminating the water and the low-lying banks, made 
a very Cuyp of the scene. After dark we entered 
the Rhine,-— 'exulting and abounding river,' — and did 
not stop to see Mayence. This town has an old 
cathedral, built in the tenth and eleventh centuries, 
containing many monuments ; one to Fastrada, the 
Queen of Charlemagne, and another to the Minne- 
singer Frauenlob. This minstrel received his name, 
1 Praise of Women,' from his poetry being devoted to 
their honor; in return for which, his bier was carried 
to the grave by eight ladies. There is a fine engrav- 
ing, from a picture by a German artist, representing 
this scene. 

We passed down the Rhine after leaving Mayence, 



234 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

by moonlight and starlight. Beside ourselves, there 
were but three or four passengers ; one of them, a 
young English lady, who was to leave some friends 
the next morning, and go alone to St. Petersburg, 
where she was, I believe, to become a governess. 
One of my companions seemed so much fascinated 
by the charming manners of this young lady, that I 
feared he might go with her. The charm consisted in 
the free, naive, abounding life which showed itself in 
every word and action, and in her willingness to 
be interested in every thing. Most of us are so arti- 
ficial, constrained, and pre-occupied, that we like the 
more, in another, the childlike abandon which we have 
lost ourselves. We -reached Bingen at nine, P. M., and 
found a new fine hotel, the Victoria, overlooking the 
river. 

Next morning we arose early, and ascended the 
hill behind Bingen, to the Chapel of St. Rochus. 
Here we had a very fine view up and down the Rhine. 
The chapel contains an altar-piece given it by the 
poet Goethe. The famous Chateau of Johannisberg, 
belonging to Prince Metternich, is in view from this 
place. The vineyards of this estate produce the most 
costly of the Rhenish wines ; and the annual produce 
of fifty-five acres has been valued at thirty thousand 
dollars. Looking up the stream from this point, we 
see the Rhine at its greatest breadth, and its channel 
contains many islands. We returned to Bingen by a 
path which led us around the back of the hill, where 
we had a fine view of the Valley of the Nahe, which 
is also filled with vineyards. We were now in the 
region of the finest Rhenish wines. Being no con- 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 235 

noisseurs, we satisfied ourselves with the sight of the 
vineyards ; but the value ascribed to these wines may- 
be judged from the fact, that a single cask of the 
Steinberg vineyard brought at auction about two 
thousand dollars, at a sale of the Duke of Nassau's 
wines in 1836. 

An expedition which we had intended to the Nieder- 
wald was prevented by the coming on of rain ; so we 
took a boat, and were rowed down the river three or 
four miles, past the famous Mouse Tower of Bishop 
Hatto, to a castle which has been restored and made 
habitable by the Prince of Prussia, and which is used 
by him for a summer residence. This castle, called 
the Rheinstein, is perched, (like most of the castles 
erected by the old robber knights,) on a cliff over- 
hanging the river. It has been completely restored, 
and fitted up with furniture in the style of the middle 
ages. We ascended to the gate by a steep zigzag 
path, and were shown through the rooms of the castle 
by the Schlossvoght, or seneschal. The walls of these 
rooms are hung with ancient armor, and the windows 
filled with painted glass. One small closet is used by 
the princess for her studio ; and contains her easel, 
paints, and pictures. After looking through the va- 
rious small chambers of this castle, we returned in 
our boat, through fast falling rain, to Bingen. 

At noon, a steamer arrived on its way down the 
river to Coblentz, and we went on board. There are 
three daily steamers on the Rhine each way during 
the summer months, and all are crowded with pas- 
sengers. The chief annoyance on board is from the 
pipes and bad tobacco of the Germans, and the noisy, 



236 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

ill-mannered behavior of the German travellers On 
the boat this morning were four young men, probably 
students, who were drinking wine and singing students' 
songs in an uproarious manner on the deck, to the 
great discontent of all quiet people. To crown the 
whole, they had the impertinence to hand round a 
plate among the passengers, for money, with which to 
pay for their wine. As their singing is as bad as it 
well can be, and adds nothing to the beauty of the 
scenery through which we are passing, one might be 
excused from any such contribution. 

As for smoking, it is universal in Germany. Men 
smoke every where ; in the salle-a-manger, in the dili- 
gence, on the steamboat deck, among the ladies, in 
the railroad train, and in omnibuses. When we were 
breakfasting at Heidelberg, a man who sat next to us 
at the table d'hote, pulled out his pipe and lighted it. 
Germans smoke their pipe when talking with ladies ; 
they smoke in picture galleries ; they smoke when 
they lie down and when they get up. Much abused 
America is pure as a virgin from this pollution of 
tobacco smoke, when compared with Germany, France 
and England. In the most princely hotels of the Con- 
tinent, in the salle-a-manger, is posted up the supplica- 
tion, ' On est prie ne pas fumer ici,' but the prayer is 
beaten back by unpropitious gales of tobacco smoke. 

It is better to ascend the Rhine, than to descend it 
as we were now doing ; for we passed too rapidly 
among these fine scenes to do them justice. Better 
still to devote a week or fortnight, if one can, to the 
scenery and excursions between Cologne and Mayence. 
But we, alas ! could only spare two days to this his- 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 237 

toric stream, famous for its castles, its vineyards, its 
overhanging cliffs, and its rich valleys ; this romantic 
river of the ancient German, of the Roman, and of 
the robher-chiefs of feudal times, whose towers crown 
every height. Here again we came in contact with 
the muse of Byron ; for though the Rhine has been 
sung by every German poet with German enthusiasm, 
and no German poet is considered free of his craft till 
he has perpetrated a stanza or song on i Father Rhine, 1 
yet all their efforts pale before the melodies of Byron's 
marvellous muse. The faithful Murray has quoted 
liberally in his hand-book from Childe Harold ; and I 
caught myself sometimes reading this poetry, in place 
of looking at the scenery it described. 

We reached Coblentz at four, and, as usual, pos- 
sessed ourselves of chambers overlooking the river. 
After dining, we crossed the bridge of boats to the 
other side, in order to see the Castle of Ehrenbreitstein, 
which towers majestically on avast rock at the junction 
of the Rhine and the Moselle. This castle is the 
strongest military post in Germany, and has of course 
been attacked and taken several times, for these for- 
tifications always invite the enemy. Once, indeed, in 
the seventeenth century, it baffled the attack of a be- 
sieging French army under Marshals Boufflers and 
Vauban ; and Louis XIV., who had come to the spot 
to be present at its surrender, had the mortification of 
travelling back as he came. But the fortress was after- 
wards taken and blown up by the French ; wherefore 
Byron speaks of ' Ehrenbreitstein with her shattered 
wall;' but it has been rebuilt since 1814, by Prus- 
sia at a cost (with the other works at Coblentz) of more 



238 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

than five millions of dollars. On three sides, the rock 
is a precipice, and on the fourth there are three lines 
of defences. Its magazines will contain provisions for 
eight thousand men, for ten years, and its cisterns 
will supply water for three years ; after which time, if 
necessary, the garrison may have recourse to a well, 
sunk four hundred feet through the rock, and commu- 
nicating with the river. We walked over this fortress, 
and a very civil Prussian officer attended us and ex- 
plained the meaning and uses of its various parts. 
We returned to Coblentz by the bridge of boats, and 
when halfway over were stopped by an official gen- 
tleman. This was done on account of three of the 
boats having been slipped from their places to enable 
a steamer to pass through. Here, on the Continent, 
the people are taken care of by the government ; so 
all the foot-passengers were stopped twenty or thirty 
rods from the opening, lest perchance, in their help- 
lessness, they might walk into it. We Americans, 
accustomed at home to take care of ourselves, grew 
impatient, and presently one of our party, looking the 
official calmly in the face, walked by ; while he turned 
in astonishment to see why this was done, the other 
three walked by behind his back. Our example infect- 
ed the rest of the passengers, and they all pushed 
on, and the officer thought it best to submit. The ob- 
struction occasioned by boats, which are constantly 
passing through the bridge, is very great ; for every 
time this happens, three of the boats which sustain a 
part of the bridge are slipped from their places, and 
allowed to drift a little way down the stream. Then 
they have to be brought back again by means of a 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 239 

windlass and ropes. Such an obstacle to travel would 
not be tolerated in the United States for a year ; but 
the Germans move slowly. 

The rain still continued ; but determined to see all 
we could, Mr. C. and I sallied forth into the streets. 
After a while we came to the monument erected by 
the French army on its way to Russia, which is a 
fountain bearing an inscription to commemorate this 
invasion ; beneath the inscription of the French com- 
mander was another affixed by the Russian general, 
who came to Coblentz some months after in command 
of a division pursuing the flying French army. He 
let the French inscription stand, but wrote under it, 
1 Seen and approved by me, the Russian commandant 
of the city of Coblentz.' We had looked for this 
inscription on three sides of the monument in vain, 
and were groping our way round to the fourth, when I 
heard a splash, and found that my friend had fallen 
into the water. The sound was alarming, but luckily 
it was only one or two feet deep, and the ducking 
served as a souvenir of Coblentz. 

A loud ringing of steamboat bells beneath our 
window awakened us at six the next morning : for 
there were four boats departing for Cologne one way, 
and for Mayence the other. It was cloudy and wet, 
and we refused to get up for another hour. At break- 
fast we met, in the hall of our hotel, named ' The 
Giant,' a number of English and American travel- 
lers ; afterwards, walking through the city, we came 
to the fountain, the scene of last night's misadventure, 
and stopped to see the old Church of Saint Castor, dis- 
tinguished by its four towers, for its great antiquity, 



240 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

(being built in 836,) and as the place where the grand- 
sons of Charlemagne met to divide his vast empire. 

Coblentz is an ancient town, and was called by the 
Romans ' Confluentes,' from the confluence of the 
Rhine and Moselle, which has been modernized into 
Coblentz. ' And no city on the Rhine,' says Murray, 
' surpasses it in the beauty of its situation.' In three 
hours after leaving Coblentz, the steamer brought us 
to Bonn, on the broad stream which bore us along 
through the most beautiful country, where castles, 
cities, and palaces crowned every height, or adorned 
every valley. At Bonn I stopped with one of our 
party, leaving the other two to go on to Cologne. 
Here we saw the fine University building, which is a 
quarter of a mile long, together with its gardens ; the 
gray old Cathedral, the fine view of the river and 
mountains from the platform, and the Cemetery which 
contains the tomb of Niebuhr — at the close of his life 
a professor in this university, and eminent, not only for 
his profound knowledge of Roman history, but for his 
manly character, solid wisdom, and extensive influence. 
From the platform, near the University, we had a beau- 
tiful view of the broad expanse of the river, and the 
4 Seven Mountains,' as they are named, beyond. These 
mountains are of volcanic structure, lofty and wild, 
and all covered with ruins of some ancient tower or 
chapel. The nearest of these, rising abruptly from the 
river side, is Drachenfels, or The Rock of the Dragon, 
made famous by the lines of Byron, which I long to 
quote, but will not. It contains the quarry, from which 
the stones were taken to build the incomplete Cathe- 
dral of Cologne. What a change since the time when 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 241 

these quarries were worked to the present ! What a 
singular mixture in the social life of those days, of 
strong Christian faith, and decidedly pagan practice ! 
Here, on this rock of Drachenfels, workmen were pre- 
paring the stones for the vast cathedral which was to 
be for Northern Europe, what St. Peter's is to Italy 
and the South. The walls, buttresses, piers, and pin- 
nacles, were rising from the' earth with the luxuriance, 
and almost the rapidity, of a tropical growth. Mean- 
time, from his castle above the quarry, the feudal 
knight was looking up and down the river to waylay 
and rob any unfortunate merchant who might be bring- 
ing goods from Venice, to supply the cities of Brabant 
and Hainault. Then the merchant had to run a gauntlet 
the whole length of the Rhine, between the castles of 
these lordly pirates. At the present time we build no 
cathedrals, but neither do we rob and murder by whole- 
sale as of old. Which, on the whole, is the evidence 
of the most Christian state of things ? 

Reluctantly we turned away from the wide expanse 
of the Rhine, glowing in the light of the sinking sun, 
with its broad margin of fields, and farms, orchards 
and vineyards, and its background of peaked castle- 
crowned hills. We stopped to look at the fine old 
cathedral, with its Norman windows and arches, all of 
which (dating from the twelfth and thirteenth centuries) 
has a unity not frequent in these buildings, and the 
simple purity which belongs to the architecture of that 
period. Then we walked on, through streets whose 
extreme dirtiness, and whose shocking smells reminded 
us of the stanza on Cologne, which intimates that the 
Rhine after washing Cologne, would need washing 
16 



242 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

itself. We found a little boy to guide us to the 
cemetery, which contains the monument of Niebuhr, 
one of the purest in design which I saw in Europe. 
Usually great expense is lavished to produce a mass 
of marble carving utterly insignificant and uninter- 
esting ; but Niebuhr's tomb has a fine bas-relief por- 
trait on its surface of himself, and another of his wife. 
Then come some very appropriate texts from the 
Wisdom of Solomon, iii. 6 ; viii. 8 ; Sirach, xlvii. 16, 17 ; 
Proverbs, iv. 18.* Then the Latin lines, ' Quis desiderio 
sit pudor aut modus tarn cari capitis.' Above, a 
medallion head of Jesus, with the words, 'I am the 
resurrection and the life,' 'I am Alpha and Omega.' 
This cemetery, like most of those we saw in Ger- 
many, is laid out with great neatness, and is filled 
with carefully tended shrubbery and flowers. It is a 
favorite walk of the citizens, and in it we found 



* ' As gold in the furnace hath he tried them, and received 
them as a burnt offering.' 

' If a man desire much experience, she knoweth things of 
old, and conjectureth what is to come ; she knoweth the sub- 
tilties of speeches, and can expound dark sentences : she 
foreseeth signs and wonders, and the 'event of seasons and 
times.' 

' How wise wast thou in thy youth, and as a flood, filled 
with understanding.' 

' Thy soul covered the whole earth, and thou filledst it with 
dark parables.' 

' Thy name went far into the islands ; and for thy peace 
wast thou beloved.' 

' The countries marvelled at thee, for thy songs and proverbs, 
and parables and interpretations.' 

'The path of the just is as a shining light, which shineth 
more and more unto the perfect day.' 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 243 

several persons to whom it seemed a familiar place 
of resort. We went from Bonn to Cologne by rail, 
after dark, and took rooms, as usual, looking upon the 
Rhine. These views by night, which we thus obtained, 
are among my pleasantest remembrances. Sitting by 
the window I watched the reflection of the lights of the 
city in the stream, saw its surface broken into curves 
and ripples by the passing boats, heard its steady mur- 
mur, and it grew to me like a companion and friend. 

The first thing in the morning was to visit the great 
cathedral, which, incomplete as it is, is yet the pride 
of Germany. It was commenced in the middle of 
the thirteenth century, and according to the plan of 
the architect was to have contained two towers, each 
five hundred feet high. The building itself was to be 
of the same length and in the form of a cross, but only 
one of the towers was carried far above the ground, 
and that not more than two hundred feet. On the top 
of this tower, still remains the crane employed by the 
masons to raise stones for the building, and there it 
has stood for centuries. The only part of the building 
which is wholly finished, is the choir, which is a won- 
derful work of genius. From the floor to the roof is a 
hundred and eighty feet. The enormous windows of 
the clerestory, are filled with exquisite painted glass, 
and the paintings on the walls, the marble altar and 
pavement, the statues, and other ornaments, produce 
an almost magical effect. We ascended to the ambu- 
latory of the choir, where one can walk around the 
interior a hundred feet above the pavement. Then 
we passed out upon the roof of the choir, which seems 
a forest of stone from the number of its enormous 



244 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

pinnacles, and double flying buttresses, one above the 
other, supported by double rows of piers. The Nave 
is now so far finished that a temporary roof has been 
carried over it, and the interior contains a forest of 
columns, some blue and rosy in the light from the 
richly colored windows, some yellow in the sun-light 
from the clerestory windows above, some in shadow, 
and others in still deeper shadow. As you look at the 
building in front, where new stones are being put up 
by the side of stones crumbling from the storms of six 
hundred years, the resemblance to a wild forest is yet 
more striking. As in a forest you see young shoots 
and old trees side by side, some with shafts vigorous 
and young, and others on the ground moss-covered, 
into which your foot sinks ; so here there are new 
columns, piers, and mouldings, with sharp outline and 
smooth surface, close to others crumbling in various 
stages of decay. Returning into the interior, and 
pausing once more for a last look into the choir — so 
filled with light from its immense painted windows, 
and so lofty as to fill me with new astonishment at 
every moment — we went, as in duty bound, to the 
small chapel containing the famous shrine of the three 
kings of Cologne. These kings or magi, who came to 
Bethlehem with presents to the infant Saviour, received 
in the middle ages from the followers of that Saviour, 
an immense return of gifts and offerings. Their 
shrine, although they were heathens, was reverenced 
as the most sacred of all, and an oath by the three 
kings of Cologne, was reverentially kept by men who 
broke every other. The tradition is, that the bones of 
these kings were brought to Cologne by the Emperor 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROrE. 245 

Frederic Barbarossa when he took Milan, in the mid- 
dle of the twelfth century. The sacristan who shows 
the relics, unlocks an iron door, and after admitting 
you, lights a small jet of gas, and locks you in. You 
then see before you a case of solid silver, gilt and 
curiously wrought, surrounded by small arcades, which 
are supported on inlaid pillars, and figures of the 
apostles and prophets. The whole is covered thickly 
with precious stones, cameos, and rich enamels. After 
we had looked at this for awhile, the front of the case 
was opened, and we saw the skulls of the three kings, 
with their names, Gaspar, Melchior, and Balthazer, on 
each, in letters made of rubies, and a diadem on each 
skull studded with jewels. These treasures are said to 
be worth more than a million of dollars ; but are much 
less than those which formerly decorated the shrines. 

After seeing the curiosities of this church, we left it 
to examine some of the other ancient and curious 
buildings which this venerable city contains. We 
were directly met on leaving the door, by a little boy, 
who had evidently made up his mind to be our guide 
through the city, whether we wished it or not. He 
understood the programme of the traveller's route, and 
pretending to lead the way, shouted continually, • St. 
Jesuiten,' meaning thereby the Jesuit's church, having 
canonized the Holy Company on his own responsi- 
bility. Finding that he would not quit us, I proposed 
to my companions to separate and go in different 
directions, and see what he would do then. The boy 
was at first perplexed, but presently selected the 
largest party, and ran after them. Scolding, and 
threats were quite wasted on him ; he dodged our up- 



246 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

lifted canes, and continued to shriek 'St. Jesuiten.' At 
last I stopped, drew out some paper, and placing him 
before me, pretended to make a sketch of his person. 
This he did not like, and shrunk behind a buttress of 
the church. I pursued him, still drawing ; then he 
hid under a wagon, and I looked under, keeping my 
pencil at work. Some other boys — his ragged com- 
panions — noticed his distress, and were much de- 
lighted. They pulled him forth, and held him up to be 
drawn, till by a desperate plunge he got away, and was 
seen no more. Whether this system would succeed 
with commissionaires in general, I doubt; but it was 
the only one which proved effectual, in our own ex- 
perience of that very tenacious class of persons. 

Cologne was a celebrated city among the Romans, 
and received its name from a colony (Colonia) of 
Roman soldiers, planted here by the mother of Nero. 
From this place Trajan was summoned to be emperor 
by Vitellius and Sylvanus. Here, in 508, Clovis, the 
founder of the Frank kingdom, was declared king. 
During the middle ages, Cologne was one of the prin- 
cipal emporiums of the trade of northern Europe, 
and its three kings drew multitudes of pilgrims to the 
place. At one time, it is said to have had as many 
steeples as there are days in the year, with twenty-five 
hundred ecclesiastics, and thirty thousand soldiers. At 
present it contains about seventy thousand inhabitants, 
and is still the largest city on the Rhine. It was at 
one time the residence, as it was the birth-place of the 
painter Rubens ; and in his house died Mary of Medici 
in penury. Many of the pictures of Rubens are still 
in the city, and in the museum some good ones by the 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 247 

old German masters. The church of St. Ursula and 
of the ' Eleven Thousand Virgins 1 is another of the 
curiosities of the place. The bones of these virgins, 
or what must pass for such, are to be seen everywhere 
in this church, built into the walls, and displayed here 
and there in glass cases. Those who choose may be- 
lieve that there are the bones of eleven thousand 
persons in this church ; but those which appear cer- 
tainly cannot exceed eleven hundred. 

The oldest church in Cologne is said to be that of 
St. Pantaleon, part of which is of the tenth century. 
It is now used as a Protestant place of worship. 

The Apostles' church was built about the year 
1200 ; and presents the appearance of a group of 
towers, and arched projections clustered together. 
Another church is said to be on the site of the capital 
of the Roman city, and was built about the year 1000. 
One older than this formerly stood on the same spot, 
and was erected by the wife of King Pepin. 

We spent the greater part of the day, with great 
pleasure, in walking through the streets of this ancient 
city, and visiting these churches ; each of which alone 
would be an object of interest. But the city itself has 
such an aspect of antiquity, and contains so many 
very ancient buildings, that one feels transferred back 
to the middle ages while wandering through its streets. 
It is surrounded with fortifications of the most elabo- 
rate kind, and its ramparts, if of no other use, make 
at all events a' very pleasant promenade, as we can 
testify. 

Taking the railroad in the afternoon, we went on to 
Aix-la-Chapelle, and passed the night. This place is 



248 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

distinguished for its warm springs, which have at- 
tracted visitors here for bathing since the days of the 
Romans ; it is celebrated also as the birth-place, and 
one of the residences of the Emperor Charlemagne, 
who built a chapel here, (about A. D. 800,) which 
gave the place its name. Three treaties of peace 
have been signed here by the sovereigns and ambas- 
sadors of the kingdoms of Europe ; the last in 1818, 
when a congress was held here to decide on the eva- 
cuation of France by the allied armies. The cathedral 
stands on the place where Charlemagne's chapel was 
formerly erected, and was built in 983, by the Em- 
peror Otho, probably in the form of the ancient church. 
You pass from the porch into an octagonal building, 
supported on round arches and very heavy columns. 
In the middle of the open space is a slab of marble 
under the centre of the dome above, inscribed with 
the words Carolo Magno. Here reposed for a hun- 
dred and fifty years the body of Charlemagne ; till the 
tomb was opened by the Emperor Otho, who found the 
body not reclining in the coffin, but seated on a throne, 
clothed in the imperial robes, bearing a sceptre in his 
hands, and on his knees a copy of the gospels. On 
his fleshless brow was the crown, and his sword ' Joy- 
euse,' was by his side. As I stood in this church, the 
aspect of which of itself reminded one of the middle 
ages — stood with my feet on the stone beneath which 
the body of this great king had reposed, and surround- 
ed by kneeling worshippers — I recalled the time of 
this founder of modern civilization. Such men as 
Charlemagne and Alfred arrive, in the providence of 
God, to accomplish by their order-loving genius what 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUKOPE. 249 

the times require. While men like Augustine and 
Luther arc sent to give impulse and life, creating a new 
spirit by means of their profound convictions of truth, 
Charlemagne and Alfred come to organize society, and 
bring its elastic elements into form. They hasten the 
progress of civilization by centuries. Charlemagne 
was a great soldier, but he fought not for conquest, but 
to beat back barbarism, which in his time threatened 
to sweep like a deluge over the world. Christianity 
was attacked on the south by the Saracens and Lom- 
bards, on the north by the Saxons, on the east by the 
Huns, on the north-east by the Slaves ; all pagans, 
and all martial. At this time the cause of Christian 
civilization seemed to depend on the Frank nation, 
and its Carlovingian kings. Charlemagne subdued all 
these nations, and put a final check to their incursions 
into the centre of Europe. But beside this, he founded 
schools, collected libraries, reformed the coinage, fixed 
the value of money, attempted the great enterprise of 
uniting the Rhine and Danube for purposes of com- 
merce, tried to establish a naval force, and began a 
code of laws. He was himself, indeed, a demi-savage, 
a half converted barbarian ; but a man of great ideas, 
and true aims ; who more than any one else in the 
civil order, may be regarded as the founder of modern 
civilization. 

Aix-la-Chapelle is the only place in the Prussian 
dominions where public gaming tables are allowed ; 
and (determined to see every thing) we paid a visit to 
the Redoute, or gaming-house. By applying at an 
indicated place, we obtained tickets of admission, and 
spent an hour watching the people around the roulette 



250 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

tables, playing at <• roulette'' and ' rouge et noir.'' We 
saw here well dressed women ; we saw old gentlemen 
with white heads, and decorations in their button-holes ; 
young boys, elegant men in the prime of life, and 
workmen in blouses, all absorbed in the fatal sport. 
Meantime, the gentlemanly banker, with clear keen 
eye, surveyed the tables, and enunciated the numbers 
in a voice distinct and calm as the stroke of a clock. 
As the cards fell, he instantly, without hurry or delay, 
tossed money to those who had won, and drew in, with 
a long rake, the silver or gold which the bank had 
gained. His eye was like an eagle's, his hand twirled 
the ball with the accuracy of a machine, and the 
contrast of his coolness and self-possession with the 
excitement of some of the gamblers, was striking. 
He never made a mistake, and seemed to see every 
thing. Some of those, however, who were engaged 
in the sport were evidently old hands, and were as cool 
as he. Several had cards on which they marked, each 
time, the color and number which had won, so as to 
judge, by the doctrine of chances, which color would 
probably win next time. We soon saw enough to 
satisfy us, and felt in no wise attracted toward this 
amusement. 

From Aix to Brussels is a long day's ride by rail. 
Part of the way the tunnels and bridges are numerous, 
and again we pass through a fine, level and fruitful 
country. The German railroads seem well made, the 
cars are comfortable, but they move slow. At Verviers 
we were detained to have our passports and baggage 
examined, for we here passed out of the Prussian 
dominions. We rode without stopping through the 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 251 

historical cities of Liege and Louvain. At Liege one 
is reminded of the story of Quentin Durvvard ; part of 
the scene of which is laid here, and the public events 
of which correspond, in most respects, with the facts 
of history. At the time when Charles the Bold and 
Louis XI. took the city by storm, in 146S, it contained 
a hundred and twenty thousand inhabitants. It is still 
a manufacturing place, and close by are the colossal 
iron works of Cockerill. 1 In passing Louvain, we saw 
from a distance the splendid ( Hotel de Ville,' which 
was finished in 1463, and is one of the richest Gothic 
buildings in the world, every part of the exterior being 
covered with minute carvings. But in our haste we 
were obliged also to pass by this city, • the walls of 
which, in the fourteenth century, contained two hun- 
dred thousand persons, nearly all occupied in manu- 
factures. We reached Brussels in the evening, and 
went to the ' Hotel des Princes,' on the Place de 
Monnaie, and from the windows of our room saw the 
lofty spire of the beautiful Hotel de Ville. 

Brussels is a very interesting city, and combines 
attractions of a twofold kind. It is part modern, and 
part ancient. The modern city is very beautifully 
built; the ancient filled with fine old picturesque build- 

1 Iron and coal are both found in abundance near Liege, and 
it is called 'The Birmingham of the Low Countries.' The 
staple manufactory is of fire-arms. Cockerill, the Englishman, 
turned the Palace of the Prince Bishop into an enormous col- 
lection of forges, machine-shops, and factories, where iron is 
made into every thing, from power-looms to penknives. The 
Waterloo Lion was cast in this establishment. Three thousand 
workmen have been employed at the same time in it. 



252 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

ings. Brussels has been called ' A small Paris,' and 
we saw enough in the few days which we spent here 
to justify the appellation. The fine Parisian taste is 
seen every where, — in the buildings, the furniture of 
rooms, the appearance and arrangement of shops, the 
dress and manners of the people. Our room in the 
hotel, which was in the fourth story, was nevertheless 
furnished throughout in perfect taste. Every thing 
was blue and white. We had blue and white window 
curtains ; a blue canopy, and white curtains to the 
beds ; blue and white stripes to the paper on the wall ; 
blue sofa cover ; the chimney-piece and top of the 
armoire were of blue marble ; and the carpet in har- 
mony with the rest. How many rooms in the Tremont 
or Astor House are furnished with such careful taste ? 
Going out to walk in the evening, I left my friend, 
who was somewhat tired, behind. Passing through 
some finely lighted streets, I came to the Hotel de 
Ville, one of the finest buildings of the kind in Eu- 
rope, — its surface covered with carvings, and its lofty 
tower ornamented with crocketed pinnacles, showing 
the taste and wealth of the city in the fifteenth century. 
In the grand hall of this building, Charles V. abdicated 
his crown. In the market-place, in front of it, the 
Counts Egmont and Horn were beheaded by order of 
the cruel Duke Alva. The beautiful tower of this 
building, of Gothic open-work, is three hundred and 
sixty-four feet high ; and from the top can be seen the 
colossal lion which marks the centre of the field of 
Waterloo. Leaving this building, I wandered through 
the streets into another part where there were no 
lighted shops, till I suddenly came to the great Church 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 253 

of St. Gudule, which stood grand in the moonlight, 
with its two towers. Then I passed on to the part of 
the city where the king resides, where is a handsome 
park, with trees, broad streets, and lofty, palace-like 
buildings. Returning home, I came to an arcade bril- 
liantly lighted, and containing a multitude of shops ; 
being, in fact, another ' Palais Royal ' on a small scale. 
Returning to the hotel, and narrating my discoveries, 
my friend declared that his fatigue was gone, and that 
he must see them too ; so I went out again, and made 
the circuit once more. 

Next morning we went to see, by daylight, the 
interior of the cathedral, which was finished in the 
thirteenth century. The interior, we fancied, was 
more neat, and more carefully kept than those of 
France. Here we first saw the very curious and 
beautiful oaken carved pulpits of Belgium. The pulpit 
of this church, carved of oak, represents Paradise. 
Adam and Eve, the size of life, stand in front, with 
the angel who drives them out. The pulpit rises out 
of a mass of branches and leaves, and a canopy over 
it is covered in like manner with foliage. Above, 
stands the Virgin and the boy Jesus ; the latter bruis- 
ing the head of the serpent, whose folds are twisted 
among the branches. The heads of cherubs appear in 
various places, and all sorts of birds and animals are 
carved in like manner around. 

It was very pleasant to go shopping in Brussels, 
the manners of the shop-keepers are so pleasing, and 
all their goods are arranged with so much taste. The 
young lady shop-keepers, as in Paris, are delightful. 
You cannot escape them. With their pretty little 



254 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

4 Oui Monsieur, c'est tres bon marche,' and a multi- 
tude of pressing ways, they make you buy at all 
events They have all of the sweet French courtesy, 
and the music of their accents is itself winning. It is 
a delight to go into a shop when a French girl is the 
sales- woman, her prattle is so pretty and joyous. I 
saw in a window some kid gloves advertised at a franc 
and a half, and went in. The young marchande im- 
mediately brought out some gloves, and began to try 
them on my hand ; pleading, in refined and gentle 
accents, in behalf of their excellence. I asked the 
price, and she said, two francs and a half. Said I, 
4 In the window you say, one and a half.' ' Mais, 
Monsieur, vous n'etes pas dame,' said she. I could 
not deny the fact nor the inference, and told her she 
had reason. The glove, when fairly on, seemed too 
small. The girl looked sad ; but 1 comforted her by 
saying, ' It is not the fault of the glove ; the glove is 
not too small, but the hand is too large.' So J paid my 
francs and departed. 

It was a real treat to see my friend, Mr. C, buying 
a penknife. He was rather difficult to suit, and had 
his own ideas as to what he wanted. So the graceful 
little French girl brought out knife after knife, talking 
so quickly and with such anxious interest, like a little 
magpie, that it kept us both laughing. She did not 
know why we laughed, for she was quite in earnest, 
bent on selling, and she recommended her wares with 
such gracious importunity, and was so charmingly 
eloquent, that buy he must and did, with all his 
gravity. 

Most persons visiting Brussels, think it necessary to 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 255 

visit the field of Waterloo, which is about ten miles dis- 
tant. The way passes through the Forest of Soignes, 
and the excursion occupies a day. I felt no wish to 
visit this place, and thought I could occupy the time in 
a better way. One battle-field is much like another; 
and I should feel neither pleasure nor pride in visiting 
the scene of a victory, the results of which have prob- 
ably been disastrous to European civilization. So I 
went to the Museum to look at pictures, and spent a 
good part of the morning there. The paintings are 
numerous, but not very good ; and it left less of an 
impression on my mind than any other European 
gallery. One picture is a singular illustration of theo- 
logical ideas at the time when it was painted. It 
represents Christ seated as a judge, and armed with 
the thunderbolts of Jupiter; and the Virgin his mother 
interceding with him on behalf of sinners, pointing to 
the bosom which had supported him while a child, by 
way of producing an impression on his feelings. In 
New Testament theology Jesus is the intercessor, but 
in the theology of the Romish Church Mary his mother 
intercedes with him ; and when you go further back, 
you find a period in which such saints as Thomas 
a Becket, and the Three Kings, were appealed to by 
worshippers, and the altars of the Father and the Son 
neglected. 

Saturday morning we went from Brussels to Ant- 
werp by the way of Mechlin, (or Malines as it is called 
in French). We stopped here to see some churches, 
and some pictures of Rubens ; into the sphere of 
whose influences we had now come. At Mechlin we 
had some difficulties with the commissionaires. One 



256 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

fastened himself upon us at the railroad depot, and 
attended us through several streets, expatiating on our 
need of him to help us find the way, and beating down 
his own price from a franc to seventy-five centimes. 
We said ' No, No, NO ; ' but this had no effect. We 
told him to go about his business ; this had no more. 
We then made him no answer, but walked on, and he 
walked on too. At last we got into a church, but 
when we came out, after having examined it for half 
an hour, there he was again, asking our patronage. 
Then we went to the cathedral, and on the way, by 
turning rapidly into a lane, we escaped him ; but on 
reaching the cathedral we found him there, awaiting 
our arrival. So when we came out of the cathedral 
we engaged another guide in pure self-defence, and 
told him he should have a franc for showing us the 
way to two other churches, to which he joyfully 
assented ; but at the end of the route demanded more. 
' That or nothing, 1 said we, ' take your choice ;' where- 
upon he took it and departed. The annoyance of 
commissionaires in these Belgian cities is very great ; 
they keep up a constant gabbling ; their breath smells 
of tobacco, and you can neither escape them or satisfy 
them. 

The cathedral at Mechlin contains one of the fine 
carved oak pulpits, representing the conversion of 
St. Paul. Paul is falling from his horse in front of 
the pulpit, and Christ, with angels, stands above. 
The pulpit door behind represents a wattled gate 
carved in oak, and a wattled fence surrounds it. The 
cathedral contains a fine painting by Vandyke, of The 
Crucifixion. Mary Magdalen is kneeling, embracing 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 257 

the feet of Jesus. The mother and St. John stand on 
the right, and the Centurion on the left. The arrange- 
ment of the figures produces the finest effect ; and 
Vandyke's purity and dignity of conception appear 
throughout. In one of the side-chapels there is a very 
good picture of St. Luke painting the portrait of the 
Virgin. The Lady-chapel behind the altar is of mar- 
ble, with a marble rail richly carved in vines and 
cherubs' heads. On a tomb I saw this inscription, — 
'Trium Bertholdorum qui ssec. xiii. Mechlinse domi- 
narunt hie ultima domus,' — which seems to me, from 
its conciseness, a good example of an epitaph. 

Going out of the cathedral we stopped to admire 
the tower, which rises from the earth in a mass of 
pinnacles and open work, reminding one of Mechlin 
lace ; though whether the cathedral is an imitation of 
the lace, or the lace patterned from the cathedral, I 
cannot say. It is three hundred and seventy feet high, 
though unfinished. If the spire had been added, 
according to the original design, it would have been 
six hundred and forty feet high. They say that on 
one occasion the fire engines were summoned to ex- 
tinguish a conflagration in this tower, but when they 
arrived, they found only the light of the moon shining 
through the openings in the carved stone-work. The 
clock-dial on this cathedral, which is of iron, gilded, 
is thirty-six feet in diameter. From the cathedral we 
went to the church of St. John, which contains another 
of the marvellous carved pulpits, in front of which are 
five figures, the size of life, representing the Good 
Shepherd and his companions, with sheep. There are 
17 



258 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

bas-reliefs on the pulpit above, and little cherubs in 
the air. 

The altar-piece of this church, painted by Rubens, 
contains five pictures in his best style. One is the 
decollation of John the Baptist. The body lies in 
front, foreshortened, showing the back, arms and 
limbs ; a soldier stepping forward, the arm and leg 
fully shown, and Herodias extending both arms to 
receive the head, with a woman behind. All this is 
contained in a panel not more than four feet wide, but 
fourteen or fifteen feet in height. The centre-piece is 
the Adoration of the Magi ; full of figures, but not 
crowded. Here, as in all Rubens' paintings, you have 
the joy of a fullness of earthly life. There is no 
holding back of conscience or fear, but a forward 
movement in each figure ; all is action. 

Beside the carved pulpit, there are in many of these 
churches confessionals of oak, also richly carved with 
terminal figures, separating the priest's closet from the 
closets on each side for penitents. One of these 
Terms represented Pleasure holding a cup with a 
snake's head coming out of it ; another represented 
Death. One was an old woman reading a book ; one, 
Penitence in tears ; and again, Hope with a crown. 
All these figures were so finely carved, that the ex- 
pression of the face was as fully given in the oak as 
it could have been in marble. 

In the square near the cathedral stands a statue of 
Margaret of Austria, surrounded by a stone pavement, 
on which is drawn a dial-plate, the same size as that 
of the cathedral clock. 

The church of Notre Dame contains some fine 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 259 

pictures by Rubens, painted for the Guild of fish- 
mongers, considered to be among his best works. 
These pictures show finely the powerful animal force 
of Rubens, which gave him so much sympathy with 
the nature of animals. The character of fishes is 
here revealed with their loves and longings. They 
seem almost as human as his men. In a narrow side- 
panel stand Tobias and the Angel, lifting the fish 
from the water, the water dripping off it. The Angel 
explains to Tobias what is to be done with it, and the 
latter looks up intelligently. The grouping and color- 
ing of the entire piece is very fine. In presence of 
these paintings of Rubens one feels well and hopeful ; 
for there seems life enough in him to vitalize a hun- 
dred men. His coloring is splendid ; his fishes are no 
longer cold-blooded, but full of warm blood. The 
sweet Tobias and the Angel make a fine contrast with 
the strong central-piece, which represents the miracu- 
lous draught of fishes. Another picture is of the tribute- 
money taken from the fish ; and another, the four 
disciples of Christ who were fishermen. 

From Mechlin we took the cars to Antwerp ; but 
Antwerp demands another chapter. 



CHAPTER XI, 



BELGIUM CONTINUED 



Antwerp (in French Anvers) is on the right bank 
of the Scheldt, which is here a broad and deep river, 
moving through extensive level plains to the sea. It 
contains about eighty thousand inhabitants, and in the 
sixteenth century had two hundred thousand. Its 
fortifications of immense strength, and its citadel, 
considered almost impregnable, have not prevented it 
from being taken several times by hostile armies. It 
is a very interesting city — interesting from the pic- 
turesque appearance of its streets and squares, from its 
historic associations, from its beautiful cathedral and 
ancient churches, from its docks built by Napoleon ; 
but especially, and more than all, from the paintings 
by Rubens and Vandyke, which are its proudest orna- 
ments. No one has seen Rubens who has not visited 
Antwerp. 

The cathedral at Antwerp was built in the thirteenth 
century, and finished in eighty-four years, and is con- 
sequently one of those which possess the unity which 
comes from the same design being pursued throughout. 
It is of great size, being five hundred feet long and 
two hundred and fifty feet wide. The Nave has three 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 261 

aisles on each side, and the choir is surrounded with 
chapels. It has one of the beautiful pulpits of carved 
oak, which distinguish the churches of Belgium ; but 
the tower, which is four hundred feet high, is perhaps 
the most beautiful in Europe. It was built as recently 
as the year 1500, and is of the most airy lightness. 
It seems like a collection of carved pinnacles soaring 
together toward the sky. So delicate is the workman- 
ship, that it reminds you of the Chinese carvings in 
ivory; and the Emperor Charles V. said that it ought 
to be kept in a case. 

I was so unfortunate as to miss seeing the famous 
1 Descent from the Cross,' and the ' Elevation of the 
Cross,' by Rubens ; for both had been taken from the 
cathedral in order to be cleaned. The altar-piece, 
however, 'The Assumption of the Virgin,' by Rubens, 
I saw, and was struck with the grace and beauty visible 
throughout. The Virgin's long hair float from her 
face ; the waist of her dress is blue, and her robes of 
rose-color and greenish white, which, as she ascends 
through the air, drift up around her figure. Below is a 
semicircle of little angels and cherubs bearing her up, 
with legs and feet flying off in every direction, like 
rays issuing from her person. Angels from above 
reach down, while some are crowning her with 
wreaths, and others pointing upward to heaven. The 
whole group seems floating upward in exquisite har- 
mony of color, and life of form. Red predominates in 
the upper part of the group, green in the lower. 
Below, on the earth, are the Apostles and women. 
The central figure is in red, being a portrait of Rubens' 
daughter. This picture is called The Bouquet, and it 



262 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

might be called the Rainbow — such is the variety and 
harmony of color. 

The confusion of forms in this picture, all tending to 
a unity of effect, surprises and delights you. It is like 
the effect produced by a sudden gust of wind on the 
leaves and branches in a thick wood. The leaves 
flying, the branches lashing tumultously, but all tend- 
ing one way. 

The group below is wholly subordinate to that 
above ; forming a base or pedestal for it — no more. 
Yet it is full of expression and vivacity, and it is 
brought into union with the group above by a com- 
mencement of motions guided and restrained by the 
influence of the scene overhead. 

And so one might continue to write about it; for it 
is as full of meanings as nature — of which nature, 
Rubens was in truth a noble child. 

From the summit of the tower I looked down on the 
city of Antwerp, and saw a mass of steep roofs, their 
gables all facing the street, and all covered, as is the 
fashion in this part of Europe, with red tiles. Look- 
ing from the Scheldt toward Mechlin, your eye passes 
along one of the principal streets called 'The Longue 
Rue Neuve,' at the extremity of which is the Church 
of St. Jacques. On your left, near the Scheldt is the 
Church of St. Dominique ; and, scattered here and there 
among the houses are small gardens, and clusters of 
green trees. Below, you see far down, the steep roofs 
of the cathedral : for each part of the cross, the two 
Transepts, the choir, and the Nave, has its own sharply 
angular roof. In the centre of the building, at the 
intersection of the Nave and Transepts, rises a round 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 263 

tower, with a top like an onion. Little chapels with 
separate roofs, surround the Nave, and the flying 
buttresses of the choir are numerous. Here you are 
raised so high, that the roof of the Nave, which is a 
hundred feet above its pavement, is three hundred feet 
below your eye ; and though it looked so lofty from 
the church floor, now seems to lie close to the ground. 
Near the cathedral is a beautiful square, planted with 
trees, and having the statue of Rubens in the middle. 
On the right of the cathedral you notice two wide 
streets, and further on, outside the walls, is the citadel, 
the walls of which are not of stone, but earth, and in 
the distance appear only like green hillocks. Stretch- 
ing away on the other side, is the broad and bending 
Scheldt, winding through a vast level plain, away and 
away, till it bends up to the horizon, where its long 
line looks like that of the sea. From the river-bank 
opposite to the city, the roads run off in straight lines 
across this great plain to the far horizon. 

In the afternoon, I visited the Museum ; which con- 
tains a large number of the finest paintings by Rubens 
and Vandyke. In the first room we came to the 
famous Crucifixion of Christ, of which Sir Joshua 
Reynolds says, 'That the genius of Rubens nowhere 
appears to more advantage than here ; that it is his 
most carefully finished picture — a composition bold, 
unconstrained, and the whole conducted with consum- 
mate art, and, in fine, that it is certainly one of the 
finest pictures in the world, for composition, coloring, 
and correctness of drawing; 1 ' and indeed all that he 
says seems not too much, even to so rapid and igno- 
rant an observation as mine. 



264 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

If we consider this picture according to the analysis 
of a work of art which Goethe suggests : 

1 Der Gedanke, das Entwerfen, 
Die Gestalten, ihr Bezug' — 

we shall find the thought original and pregnant, the 
plan marked with genius, the forms full of energy and 
beauty, and the relation of part to part, uniting variety 
in the details, with a total harmony. The thought of 
the picture is to seize that moment when the centurion 
is piercing the side of Jesus, and a soldier breaking 
the leg of one of the thieves. All the action of the 
figure, and the expression of the faces, are determined 
by these two events. Yet they are not tame and pas- 
sive events, but active — full of energy and will. No 
one but Rubens would have dared to take these savage 
acts as the central creative thought of his picture. 

The plan consists of the three crosses, the figure of 
Christ in the centre, his limbs straight, and his body 
pale in color. The two thieves on either side ; one 
contorted with agony, has torn one of his feet from 
the tree, the other composed in attitude, and darker in 
color, hanging so as to front the spectator. The two 
Soldiers at their cruel work look as if not inspired by 
evil passions, but as strong men doing their work with 
a will. In the right corner are the two Women and 
St. John, turning away with an expression of anguish, 
tempered with submission to an inevitable doom — 
from what they cannot look at and live. Then there 
is the sweet face, and graceful figure of the Magdalen 
clinging to the cross, and loosing her Master's bloody 
feet from her faithful embrace to deprecate the new 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 265 

cruelty. Lastly — quite different from all, yet in har- 
mony — the Good Centurion leaning forward on his 
horse's neck, resting on both hands, and looking 
steadily at the face of Jesus, as though he would pene- 
trate to the bottom of this mystery of holiness. In 
every part, the design is surpassingly excellent. 

But what shall we say of the figures, all energetic, 
active force, and fulness of life ? What shall we say 
of the colors, with their daring contrasts ? the red 
drapery of St. John close to Mary, whose dress is deep 
blue and black, and directly behind, the yellow dra- 
pery of the Magdalen. Sir Joshua Reynolds says of 
the Magdalen, that her profile is ' by far the most beau- 
tiful I ever saw of Rubens, or I think of any other 
painter ; the excellence of its coloring is beyond ex- 
pression.' 

The relation of the figures to each other is this — 
as the thieves above are to Christ, so are the soldiers 
below to the women. The transition above is by the 
penitent thief, and below by the penitent centurion. 
The flood of human life flowing through all, is the 
binding medium which holds all the figures together. 

Another picture by Rubens is of St. Theresa inter- 
ceding for souls in Purgatory, and its absurd faults 
of conception, show how little Rubens could escape 
from real life. The faces of Theresa and of Christ are 
too serene and comfortable for the subject ; neverthe- 
less, the souls in purgatory (who also have their bodies 
with them) look cheerful enough. One of them has 
the precise look of the beggars when they put on an 
expression of great distress, to excite your sympathy. 
He evidently is doing the same thing to move the 



266 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

compassion of the good saint. Another of the men in 
purgatory has the look of one evidently expecting to 
come right out. 

Opposite to the great picture of the Crucifixion 
stands another of the same size, and containing nearly 
twenty figures. The subject is the Adoration of the 
Magi. It is a grand composition, and filled with the 
variety which belong to Rubens. One of the kings or 
magi is kneeling with an expression of great rever- 
ence ; he evidently is a Parsee saint. Behind is an 
old man in a red robe, chiefly occupied in observing 
what is going on. The head of this man seemed 
somehow badly set on. The burly Ethiopian in the 
centre, with a rich green dress and turban, is excellent. 
He would do for an active Burgomaster, or an ener- 
getic man of business in any time. Around and above 
are heads looking in, each with its own expression of 
curiosity, amusement, or intelligence. Above, through 
the stable door, are seen the upper part of two of the 
camels. One has put his head in, and is looking at the 
infant Jesus with much apparent pleasure ; the other 
is thinking of nothing but his hay. The picture is all 
a-glow with rich colors — all alive with motion and 
expression. The attitude of the mother and position of 
the child, are very graceful. But the Virgin Mother ! 
how sweet is her joy in her child. The presents 
attract her not, nor the reverence of the kings. Her 
pleasure is in showing them her beautiful boy. She 
looks only at her child, and is admiring him with so 
genuine a mother's feeling, that in this touch of nature 
we are surprised into new admiration of the genius of 
Rubens. Then the child's attitude is all-expressive of 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 267 

careless infancy; his head rests on his mother's arm, 
and his little hands are laid over hers, as if he had 
just twisted himself over for a moment to look at these 
strangers. There is also a good head of a boy who is 
looking in a most loving way at the infant. 

Near by we have a 'Holy Family' by Jansens, 
which represents little John offering cherries to the 
infant Jesus, who takes one carefully in his hand like 
an infant, while the mother looks down over his head, 
one hand passed around the child, and the other rest- 
ing on the shoulder of John, who offers his cherries in 
both hands. It is a joyful tittle scene. Another pic- 
ture is a Lord's Supper, by Jordaens, who is a fine 
artist, of the school of Rubens. He just failed of 
being a Rubens by the misfortune of having great 
talent instead of great genius. Great talent has no 
organizing (that is, creative) power. The design of 
this picture, accordingly, is taken from Da Vinci, and 
is worked up in the style of Rubens. He borrowed 
from Leonardo the thought and the grouping ; but he 
brings in legs, nervous and in action, a la Rubens. 
The parts, however, if borrowed, are nicely fitted and 
well joined. 

A modern picture of the death of Rubens by Van 
Bree, is spoken of with some contempt by the inesti- 
mable Mr. Murray. Nevertheless, I dared to think it 
very beautiful, especially the daughter, who is tending 
her dying father. Four pictures by Otto Venius de- 
serve to be studied. The design I thought inferior; 
but the coloring is rich. 

In a modern picture by F. de Brackeleer, represent- 
ing the siege of Antwerp, there is much that is finely 



268 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

conceived and well executed. He, however, has a 
trick which I always disliked in Westall, that of ex- 
pressing horror by making the eyes very wide open. 

Another picture by Rubens, is a Pieta, or Dead 
Christ, on a table of stone with straw upon it. There 
are two side panels to this picture ; the one containing 
a St. John, and the other a mother and child. Here 
we see the tendency of Rubens to make every thing 
coleur-de-rose. Even the Dead Christ is colored red, 
with the blood from the wound. The old man (Joseph 
of Arimathea) who holds him, is also highly colored, 
as is perhaps reasonable enough. Mary has a red 
sleeve, and 1 suppose no one can object to that. The 
Magdalen's face, the only part seen except her clasped 
hands, is also reddish ; and as she still looks so lovely 
with a red face, this perhaps is a sufficient vindication. 
The white linen below, the white stone table, and the 
cool yellow straw is the contrast and relief to all this. 
Her body sinks down in a natural attitude. The face 
of Magdalen is too young, but is full of tender sympa- 
thy and girlish wonder. 

The next day was Sunday ; and there being, as far 
as I could learn, no place of Protestant worship in Ant- 
werp, I spent the morning in the Catholic churches. 
One or two I visited before breakfast, and on my way 
observed the milk-carts drawn by dogs. At one place 
the dog had laid himself down and gone to sleep, while 
the man went in with the milk. One of the carts was 
drawn by four dogs, the man riding. In this country 
I have also seen cows in harness ; and the little don- 
keys, scarcely bigger than a large dog, drawing heavy 
carts, in which one or two persons are riding, is a 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 269 

common sight all over Europe. Another singular 
sight I forgot to mention. At one of the depots on 
the way from Aix to Mechlin we saw some soldiers 
waiting for a train. Among them was a young woman 
in a soldier's dress, with blue frock coat, white pants, 
and helmet. It appeared that she was one of the 
suttlers who attend the army with stores of various 
kinds to sell to the soldiers, and I was told that they 
not uncommonly wear a soldier's dress. 

I went first this morning to the church of St. 
Andrew. It has a fine pulpit with a group of oak 
statuary representing the call of Andrew and Peter. 
The figures of Christ, of Peter, and Andrew, are all of 
full size. The boat is also large enough for two per- 
sons ; in it lies the net and the fish, all of the natural 
size, and all carved out of wood. Christ is standing on 
the shore calling them. Andrew has left the boat, and 
is bending before Jesus. Peter is still sitting in the 
boat. The expressions and attitudes are all excellent. 
The church was filled with people, and Mass was being 
celebrated. At intervals there would be a cessation of 
the services ; many people would go out, while others 
were continually coming in. There seemed a great 
deal of individual worship therefore, but no common 
worship. One man came in, in his workman's blue 
blouse, while I was looking at the pulpit, and tossing 
his greasy cap into the apostolic boat, took a chair, 
and kneeling in it, seemed absorbed in his devotions. 
Directly, however, though there was no cessation in 
the worship, he took his cap and went away. If I 
was somewhat disturbed at his irreverence toward the 
apostolic boat, much more was 1 scandalized by an- 



270 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

other, who, taking off his hat, deliberately placed it 
for safe keeping on the head of one of the apostles. 
Meantime some women and men were crawling around 
the church on their 1 knees, stopping to cross them- 
selves, and mutter prayers before each crucifix and 
sacred painting. It takes some time for a Protestant 
to enter into the feelings of Catholic worshippers. 
You see such a mixture of absorbed devotion, as it 
seems, with such apparent formality and irreverence. 
But one thing at least must be granted to the Catholics 
of Antwerp, that if there is any value in a strict 
attendance on public worship, they excel Protestant 
Americans therein. I went this morning between six 
o'clock and twelve, into four or five churches, each of 
which was crowded with worshippers. After the parish 
churches were closed, which took place about ten 
o'clock, the cathedral service began, and its vastONave 
was also filled with worshippers, to the number, I sup- 
pose, of several thousand. To determine the value of 
this worship, however, several things are to be con- 
sidered and ascertained, none of which can be learned 
by a stranger. First. It is evident that where a cer- 
tain amount of attendance on worship, and the repe- 
tition of certain prayers at particular times and at 
particular altars, is commanded by the priest as a con- 
dition of absolution, and is performed by the penitent 
as a duty, the outward act will certainly be done, and 
there will be a great appearance of worship ; but how 
much of this is of the mind and heart is another 
question. There may be much, there may be little. 
Again. Where their worship is sincere, and is more 
than a mere opus operatum, we must again ask how 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 271 

much of it contains Christian truth, and tends to form 
a Christian character. For in intensity, frequency, and 
fervor of devotion, Catholics may surpass Protestants ; 
but are their lives in consequence more filled with 
Christian graces ? Are Catholic nations more honest, 
truthful, and pure, than Protestant nations? Catholics, 
again, are excelled by Mohammedans in frequency, 
intensity, and absorption in prayer ; but are Moham- 
medans better than Christians? Mr. Malcolm, in his 
travels to the Birman Empire, notes the impression 
made upon his mind by the profound devotion of Bud- 
hists. No one can doubt the sincerity of those Hindoo 
worshippers, who swing themselves on steel hooks 
before their idols; but does this worship make them 
any better? The true worship which the Father seeks 
always has the two criteria which Jesus indicates; — 
it must be worship in spirit and worship in truth ; it 
must be sincere, and it must be enlightened, if it 
is sincere and not intelligent, it is superstition. If it 
is intelligent but not sincere, it is hypocrisy. 

None of these reflections, however, were in my 
mind while mixing to-day with these Catholic wor- 
shippers. No mental criticism prevented me 'from 
sympathizing with their worship. I gladly felt that I 
had fellowship with them, and with our common 
Master. A stranger, and alone in their midst, I felt 
that I was not a stranger, and not alone ; for our minds 
were possessed by the same thought, and one God was 
with us — the Father of us all. 

From the church of St. Andrew T went to the church 
of the Dominican. By the side of this in an enclosure, 
is a Calvary, as it is called : an artificial eminence 



272 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

raised against the walls of the church, covered with 
rock-work, and planted with the statues of saints, 
angels, prophets and patriarchs. You pass up along a 
path, on each side of which stand apostles and angels. 
On the summit is the Crucifixion ; and beneath, a 
grotto, within which as you enter you see the body of 
Christ encircled with silk and muslin. The church 
itself contains some fine pictures, one by Rubens of 
the Scourging of Christ : a subject which is often 
visible in Catholic churches. There is also here on 
both sides the church, a row of richly carved oaken 
confessionals ; the terminal figures on which have 
great sweetness of expression. In the afternoon, I 
went again to the Museum, and studied again the 
works of Rubens. One of his pictures, which I had 
not before noticed, is the Communion of St. Francis. 
The subject is not pleasing ; the emaciated figure of 
the dying saint is supported by the monks behind, so 
that he can kneel, nearly naked, before the Bishop. 
His face, worn and haggard, expresses eager desire 
for the sacrament. Here, as elsewhere, Rubens 
accumulates figures, filling his canvas behind with a 
multitude of monks ; some ascetic, some jolly, some 
praying, some observing the scene. Nine heads were 
thus introduced close together ; all differing in feature, 
color, and expression. 

A glorious Vandyke — representing the Dead Christ, 
on the knees of the Virgin, with Mary Magdalen kissing 
his hand. It is a lovely, lovely picture. The Magda- 
len's yellow dress is rich, yet pure, her left arm 
resting on it, very beautiful, and you can almost feel 
the kiss she is pressing on the cold hand. The head 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 273 

of John, looking in above, has the most earnest ex- 
pression of sympathy imaginable. 

Another Vandyke, also represents the Dead Christ, 
lying at length on Mary's lap, who is sitting on the 
ground, her arms thrown upward in an agony of grief. 
Three angels are looking at the wounded hand. 

Another Vandyke, represents Christ on the Cross. 
He is shown as being high in the air ; the city seen 
dimly below, and merely the tops of the rocks and 
hills. Earth has gone, and the face is turned up to 
heaven, raying up light toward God ; alone with the 
Father in deepest longing. Such a Christ one might 
keep before his eyes as the truest symbol of the soul 
struggling up through fiery trials to God. A painting 
like this by Rubens has earth less distant, and heaven 
less near. 

These paintings prove that Vandyke was greater 
than Rubens in depth of sentiment and nobleness of 
conception. He failed only of his abounding life and 
exuberant genius. 

A picture, by Rubens, of Jesus showing his hand 
with the print of the nails, to Thomas, who is scru- 
tinizing it very carefully. This subject was not a good 
one for Rubens, for it involved no action. What then 
could he do with it ? He always fails with such sub- 
jects ; as men of genius will when they leave the field 
of their genius. The face of Christ is poor; neverthe- 
less the old head of Thomas, and the youthful one of 
John, side by side, have a happy effect. 

A small picture by Rubens, which was the design 
for his famous Descent from the Cross. The great 
merit of Rubens doubtless appears in this, but what 
18 



274 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

is it ? Action, and action only. All the figures are 
engaged in lifting down the dead body. Genius is 
shown in the contrasts and harmonies of attitude and 
color; in the composition, &c. ; but what does it teach? 
It is a grand painting in a subordinate field of art. 

Rubens, — A dead Christ with two cherubs, — the 
Father above. The greatness and defects of Rubens 
are both seen here. The execution is as powerful as 
the conception is small. The Christ is like a healthy 
happy man asleep. The lights and colors are wonder- 
ful ; the execution throughout admirable, but the idea 
is low. 

After leaving the Museum I visited the Church of 
St. Jacques, which is highly decorated with marbles, 
painted glass, and fine monuments. The chief families 
of the town have private burial vaults, chapels, and 
altars in this church. The most remarkable is the 
chapel which belonged to the family of Rubens, and 
his tomb. The altar-piece in this chapel was painted 
for k by Rubens, and he has introduced into it his 
own portrait and those of several of his family. The 
Church of the Augustines also contains an altar-piece 
by Rubens, representing the marriage of St. Catharine, 
of which Sir Joshua Reynolds says, ' I confess I was 
so overpowered with the brilliancy of this picture, 
whilst I was before it and under its fascinating influ- 
ence, that I thought I had never before seen so great 
powers exerted in the art. It was not till I was re- 
moved from its influence, that I could acknowledge 
any inferiority in Rubens to any other painter what- 
ever.'" 

I walked home by the way of the Docks, which are 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 275 

two vast basins of stone, built by Napoleon at the time 
he intended v to make Antwerp the great sea-port and 
naval arsenal of the North. The works which he 
executed are said to have cost ten millions of dollars. 
All were demolished by the Allies after the Peace of 
Paris, except these two, which were allowed to remain 
for commercial purposes. They protect the vessels in 
winter, which, in the open river, would be injured by 
the floating ice. Passing by the ships, I saw on t\\e 
stern of one these words, c The May-flower, Plymouth,' 
and immediately went on board. A man was leaning 
over the rail, and, accosting him in English, I said, 
4 When did you leave the States ? ' His face expressed 
much pleasure, and he told me I was the first person 
he had seen in Antwerp who spoke English. 

In the evening I visited the cathedral, a small part 
of which was lighted for service. Hiring a chair for 
two sous, according to the tariff des chaises, which in 
most Catholic churches is suspended against the wall, 
I took my seat by one of the pillars. The vast space 
was dimly illuminated by a number of lamps hanging 
against the pillars around the pulpit. I quote from my 
pocket-book what I wrote with pencil by the light of 
one of these lamps. ' On each side of the nave are 
three aisles, making six rows of lofty columns running 
from one extremity to the other. These columns, 
eight or ten feet in diameter, look slender enough from 
their great height. They are composed of clusters of 
small pillars, and support groined arches above. The 
multitude of springing, intersecting lines fills the eye 
like the arches of a forest. But high above the body 
of the nave rise the lofty windows of the clerestory, 



276 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

and above them again spring the higher arches of the 
main roof. Near the pulpit the pavement is covered 
with people, sitting in the little wooden chairs, (which 
are let by women,) or standing on the marble floor. 
In the beautiful oak pulpit, carved into trees and 
statues, stands the preacher in his white surplice. He 
speaks in Flemish, but his tones and gestures are 
touching and earnest. I know well enough what he is 
saying, though I have not understood half a dozen of 
his words. The people are quiet and attentive, and of 
all classes of society ; the ouvrier in his blue blouse, 
the lady in her silk mantle. Before the sermon began, 
there was chanting by men and boys, and the powerful 
organ filled with its rich notes the distant recesses of 
the Minster; penetrating to the remote chapels, by 
many of which single persons are kneeling, or moving 
around the church, stopping to pray at the different 
stations.' 

Whilst the sermon went on, I felt the presence of 
God. I felt my sins ; I looked up to Christ, the Saviour 
and Master of us all ; I felt that I was among my Chris- 
tian brethren and sisters, and I prayed for their souls 
and my own. I thought that, at home, our little chil- 
dren were together in their afternoon Sunday school, 
and I prayed to God to bless them also. I knew that 
his love surrounded and embraced us all, and that in 
him we could meet, no matter how far away. So, as 
the sermon ended and the people went away, 1 bade 
farewell to the noble Minster as to a friend, and before 
I followed them, walked, for the last time, by the faint 
light, through the isles and among the dark chapels. 

Leaving the cathedral, I entered a cafe at the corner 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 277 

of the Place Verte, which is the name of the square 
on which the Cathedral stands. While drinking my 
cup of coffee, I looked over the French papers, and 
lighted upon an article containing an address sent by 
the President and members of the Society of St. Vin- 
cent de Paul in Paris, to the Provincial Synod of Paris. 
It was a petition for the abolition of the Casuel, and 
asked that seats should not be sold in the churches, 
and that worship should not be made use of to make 
money. The address goes on to say, that the poor 
people, to whom they' minister, declare that the church 
is made for the rich ; that they sell prayers in it ; that 
they traffic in seats ; that they are humiliated by being 
thrust into the lower part, or some corner of the church, 
while those who pay occupy the nave and the neigh- 
borhood of the altar. The petition adds, that it is in 
vain to preach equality before God under these circum- 
stances. I was struck by this address and these com- 
plaints, because I had just been feeling pleasure at the 
sight of people of different ranks sitting side by side, 
each person putting his chair where he chose. When 
we complain of the pew system at home, because it 
drives away the poor from our churches, we usually 
quote the Catholic Church as an instance of the con- 
trary, and praise it for the equality which prevails 
therein. It was curious, therefore, to see precisely the 
same arguments used against the practice of letting 
chairs, which prevails universally in the Catholic 
churches, which we use against the sale of pews. 

Returning to my hotel, I sat at the window looking 
at the lofty spire, the light tracery of which was illu- 
minated by the moon, now nearly full. The chimes 



278 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

(or carillons as they are here called), were playing 
their accustomed tune before the great bell should 
strike nine. These chimes are great favorites with 
the Belgians, and are to be found in all their cities. 
Those in the Antwerp tower consist of ninety-nine 
bells, with four or five hammers attached to each. 
These hammers are connected by wires with a series 
of keys, which are played upon by pegs, fixed in the 
circumference of a large brass cylinder. The cylin- 
der is made to revolve by means of great weights, 
and is connected with the clock-work, so as to set the 
hammers going, and play a tune every quarter of an 
hour during the day and night. At the end of the 
first and third quarter of each hour, it plays one or 
two bars ; at the end of the half hour it plays a longer 
period ; and at the end of the hour it plays for four or 
five minutes before the great bell strikes. The Em- 
peror Charles V. stood as godfather at the baptism 
of this bell, and it requires sixteen men to pull it. 
The music of the chimes is very sweet, and I could 
not but wish that we had them in all of our cities. It is 
pleasant to hear this music in the air, like an Ariel 
singing, as you walk the streets at noon, or turn in 
your bed at midnight. In the night-time especially 
the sound of this airy music reminds you of into how 
many homes it penetrates ; and it seems to bring all 
who hear it into fellowship with each other. 

As I sat at the window, it seemed to me that I had 
enjoyed nothing in Europe (except the Alps), so much 
as the paintings of Rubens and Vandyke. My con- 
clusion concerning Rubens was, that his genius was 
essentially dramatic, and his forte action and not sen- 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 279 

timent. His best pictures are full of life, energy, and 
the outflow of an exuberant genius. Some heads 
have great beauty, all animation and expression. An 
infinite variety which ' age could not weary, nor cus- 
tom stale,' prevails throughout his works. He never 
repeats himself, nor imitates another. Every figure 
has its own character, every head its own expression. 
None are common-place, none kept down. Soldiers, 
women, Jews,- apostles, children — all are there, in 
their own persons and style of being. The effect of 
the whole is of a rushing tide of joyful life ; or like a 
fine fresh airy morning when one feels well. 

Loftier and purer than Rubens, yet eclipsed by the 
meteoric splendor of his genius, the paintings of Van- 
dyke elevate one's nature. I cannot but love and 
reverence Vandyke ; so noble, so dignified in his 
whole method of art. After seeing Rubens' master- 
pieces here, I retained the opinion which I formed in 
England, that if Rubens is the greatest artist, Vandyke 
is the noblest. 

But all here breathes of Rubens and his influence. 
Streets and wharfs bear his name ; his statue is in the 
Place Verte ; his house and grave are shown to stran- 
gers, and his paintings draw multitudes to the city 
every year. Even the great cathedral, one of the 
most splendid in Europe, is chiefly illustrious as pos- 
sessing his finest picture. So surely does genius rule 
the world ; and so do men love the creative imagina- 
tion which removes the tedium of life, filling the mind 
with new conceptions and images of beauty. 

The chimes played again for half past nine, and 
the great bell struck ten. For by some curious cus- 



2S0 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

torn, on the half hours the next hour is struck. And 
so I went to bed to sleep for the last time on the con- 
tinent of Europe ; for on Monday night I should be 
on my way to England. 

On Monday morning, October 1st, I crossed the 
Scheldt in a small steamer, to the railway which 
goes from the opposite shore to Ghent and Bruges. 
It was raining this morning, and the rain continued 
till the afternoon. We went for two*or three hours 
through the most fertile and thickly populated part of 
Europe, and, with the exception of parts of China, of 
the world. It is a perfectly level country, cut up into 
small farms, of a few acres each ; every farm sur- 
rounded by its trench or ditch, in the sides of which 
are planted trees, some twenty feet apart. The farms 
are thus divided by avenues of high trees; and 
the farm-houses are scattered, and not collected in 
villages as in France. This country is the most pro- 
ductive in Europe. Formerly a bare heath, at pre- 
sent every inch of ground is rendered productive. 
Such laborious cultivation is nowhere else to be seen. 
Flax is one of the principal products. 

So we came to the famous city of Ghent, once the 
largest in Europe, and of which the. Emperor Charles 
V. said, that he could put all Paris into his glove 
(Gant). In 1297 the citizens beat back from their 
walls twenty-four thousand English, commanded by 
Edward I. When the great bell in their belfry 
sounded the alarm, an army of citizens was imme- 
diately collected. In the year 1400 the city of Ghent 
is said to have contained eighty thousand citizen- 
soldiers. It is still a great manufacturing city. 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 281 

The historical associations connected with this city 
are very numerous. Here Jacques Van Arteveldt, 
and Philip Van Arteveldt, made themselves tribunes 
of the people in the fourteenth century. In one of 
these streets lies a cannon, called the largest in the 
world (eighteen feet long), used by the citizens at the 
siege of Oudenarde in 1382. In another place, a tur- 
retted gateway is a relic of a castle, built in 868, 
which, when five hundred years old, became the resi- 
dence of Edward III. of England, whose wife here 
gave birth to John of Gaunt, — 'time-honored Lan- 
caster,' — who received his name from his birth-place. 
In this city, in 1477, the Emperor Maximilian was 
married to Mary of Burgundy, heiress of Charles the 
Bold. And here, in 1500, was born the Emperor 
Charles V. Whichever way you turn, you find 
something to remind you of the middle ages. The 
belfry, built in the twelfth century, has on its top a 
gilt dragon, brought from Bruges in 1445, by the 
citizens under Philip Van Arteveldt. The cathedral 
of St. Bavon was built in the thirteenth century. The 
houses have their fronts covered with curious carv- 
ings. 

On reaching Ghent, I rode through the rain to the 
Hotel of Count Egmont, the title of which attracted 
me. Dexterously avoiding the guides, who lie in wait 
for unwary travellers, I made my way to the cathe- 
dral of St. Bavon, which contains some remarkable 
pictures. This cathedral is very splendid ; the walls 
are lined with black marble, the balustrades are of 
white marble, the gates of the chapels are brass 
open-work, and every vacant space is filled with sta- 



2S2 ELEVEN WEEKS IH EUROPE. 

tues and paintings. The carved pulpit of oak is dis- 
figured terribly by some barbarian, who has had it 
painted white in some parts. One of the chapels 
contains an admirable picture painted by the brothers 
Van Eyck in 1432, long before the great Italian 
painters were born. The Van Eycks are spoken of 
as the inventors of oil painting. If they were, they 
carried it also to great perfection. The subject of this 
masterpiece is the Adoration of the Lamb. The 
Lamb of the Book of Revelations is in the centre, sur- 
rounded by groups of worshippers. The design is 
uninteresting, but the details are exquisitely finished. 
It is executed with the fidelity of a miniature, and in 
the richest tone of color. Hundreds of heads, all 
beautifully finished, are contained on a small surface. 
But the compartments above are admirable, containing 
three figures, one of them, God the Father, another 
John the Baptist, and the third the Virgin Mary. The 
coloring is as rich as that of Venice. The dress of 
the Father a rich crimson, that of John a beautiful 
yellow green, and that of the Virgin dark blue. The 
face of the Virgin is exquisitely lovely, — as pure and 
deep an expression as one of Rafaelle's ; a little stiff 
indeed, but very beautiful. She reads in a book, with 
a naive, girlish, semper virgo air of contentment. 
Her rich hair flows over her shoulders, every hair 
distinct. In her face are happily combined the unde- 
veloped feeling of the girl, and the serene happiness 
of the mother. On the side of this chapel were pil- 
lars of marble, cut as if twisted into a spiral form. 

All the paintings being uncovered, I could pass 
quietly on from one chapel to another, and look as 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 283 

long as I pleased at each picture. Presently I came 
to one by Rubens, containing in the upper part a 
group, with St. Bavon ascending the steps of the 
church to become a monk. Another group below 
corresponds with this above, and consists of women 
and children ascending his castle-steps to receive the 
money which he gave away on entering the church. 
These two are in parallel lines with a space between. 
The bishop above stands receiving the saint, and the 
steward below is receiving the poor ; which method of 
composition produces an effect in painting, analogous 
perhaps to the recurrence of the same strain in a piece 
of music. 

In another chapel is a picture of the Resurrection 
of Lazarus, by Otto Venius, the master of Rubens. 
It is excellent in grouping, spiritual expression, pure 
and harmonious coloring ; but alas ! he did not bathe 
in the fountain of Nature, as well as drink from that 
of Spirit. So this painting, and others which lean 
toward the ideal, remind one of the way in which a 
devout man sometimes reads the Bible, — making all 
parts equally solemn, and losing the sense in the 
feeling. The faces here are full of reverence and 
humility ; but what is taking place before them excites 
the smallest part of it. The dramatic element is 
wanting ; the action subsides before the sentiment. 
In Rubens we note the opposite merit and defect. He 
has the action without the feeling. These forerunners 
have the feeling without the action. His paintings 
are full of nature, empty of spirit; theirs, full of 
spirit; meagre and poor on the side of nature. Oh, 
noble artists ! why not both ? 



284 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 



While I was sitting in these side-chapels with their 
high marble balustrades and brazen doors, a great 
ceremony, with much chanting, was going on in the 
choir of the church, to which I at first paid small 
attention. But while I sat before one of the paintings, 
behold ! a procession of priests in their robes, chanting 
and bearing a crucifix, proceeded by boys swinging 
censers of burning incense, attended by others with 
tall candles, passed through the aisle between me and 
the choir. It was a beautiful sight, as they passed 
along down the long marble building to the foot of the 
nave, and then up through the middle of the church 
back to the high altar. The bishop in his robes was 
in the procession, and before him were borne the relics 
of St. Bavon ; for it seems they were celebrating the 
feast of the saint to whom the cathedral was dedicated. 
In addition to the chanting and the music of the organ, 
a full military band with trumpets and bugles was 
posted on the top of the high marble screen which 
separated the choir from the nave. The effect of this 
martial music, the chanting, and the full organ accom- 
paniment was very fine ; but though printed bills were 
posted up announcing this music and procession, there 
were few people present, and the priests seemed to 
have it all to themselves. 

From the cathedral I went to the belfry, a tall 
tower of stone in the middle of the city, erected in 
1183. The view from the top is charming and curious, 
and one might spend an hour or two with great satis- 
faction on this summit. You see below multitudes of 
steep roofs covered with red tiles, but beside these, many 
modern structures of stone, and open spaces with trees. 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 285 

Four or five large ancient churches with their high 
towers and spires, are around you. Looking west, the 
Hotel de Viile is just below with its steep roof and 
carved gable. Beyond the square in which it stands, 
is a church with two towers and a spire rising from the 
middle. Beyond this again you see the open country 
with avenues of trees intersecting it in every direction. 
Looking north, you see the cathedral ; close to you 
rises one high square tower, containing three stories 
above the roof, and very lofty transepts ; and beyond 
are clustered houses, open squares, trees, and the tall 
chimneys of manufactories. To the right of this, in 
the distance, is a high church with a dome and tower ; 
and multitudes of wind-mills are beyond. Clouds were 
drifting over the sky, through which gleams of sun- 
light fell here and there upon the old roofs, or on the 
rich green fields beyond. 

Beggars and commissionaires prevail extensively in 
Ghent. In the course of half an hour's walk I amused 
myself with reckoning the number of each. The 
beggars won the victory ; for I counted six of these, 
and only five commissionaires, who attacked me dur- 
ing this ramble. The tricks of the commissionaires to 
get possession of travellers, are numerous and some- 
times ingenious. Sometimes they put their head into 
the cab or omnibus, and address you as if you had 
engaged them ; saying, ' I will meet you, Sir, at the 
hotel.' Sometimes they pretend to belong to the hotel, 
and assume, as a matter of course, that they are to 
attend you. One will seize your carpet-bag or port- 
manteau and carry it to your chamber, in order to 
establish a claim. One told me that he was the guide 



286 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

who took Americans around the city ; having probably 
looked at the register of names in the hotel to see 
where I was from. To all this activity and persever- 
ence the traveller must oppose an imperturbable pa- 
tience and determination. 

There is a fine station-house at Ghent, built of iron ; 
the pillars which support it, and the roof, are both of 
iron, and the front has highly ornamented castings. 
The effect of this is great lightness and elegance. An 
iron bridge, bronzed and richly ornamented, is near 
the depot, and is very beautiful. It seems, indeed, not 
unlikely that by the use of metals in building, we may 
obtain an altogether new and original style of architec- 
ture. Probably, as in other periods, if such a style 
comes, it will arrive and be among us, without much 
notice being taken of it. The pointed architecture 
arose and overspread Europe, and no man knew or 
can tell to-day whence it came. Pedants were prating 
of the Greek architecture, and men of talent were 
copying the Greek orders, while the genius of the age 
was improvising methods of art so new, that they were 
not recognised as art at all, but seemed rather a growth 
of nature and necessity. In the same manner, while 
modern pedants are copying the mediaeval arches and 
buttresses, the spirit of our times may be creating un- 
observed a style of architecture hitherto unknown. 
Iron buildings possess an airy lightness which never 
can be imparted to stone. Graceful and delicate as 
are the open-work spires and tracery of the fourteenth 
century, they must be far surpassed by the delicacy of 
iron ornaments. In fact, the objection one feels to the 
great iron spire at Rouen, is, that it seems too light and 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 287 

open to be in harmony with the rest of the structure. 
The progress of architecture hitherto has been from 
solidity to grace — from the heavy pyramids of Egypt 
through the horizontal entablatures of Greece, to the 
perpendicular lines of the later pointed style. One 
step further in the same direction conducts us to the 
airy effects of iron architecture. Another fact which 
must have great influence in determining the character 
of this style, is the ease with which, by means of 
moulds, castings of any particular form can be multi- 
plied. The whole front of a building may be wreathed 
with vines and foliage, while its roof is decorated with 
a thousand spires and pinnacles overhung with blos- 
soms and fruit. In fact there need be no limit to this 
sort of decoration. 

Blessing the railroad, which enabled me to see in 
one day two such great cities as Ghent and Bruges, I 
went on at noon to the latter place. This city is even 
older than Ghent and Antwerp, and had reached the 
height of splendor and riches, when these were only 
in their infancy. In the fourteenth century it con- 
tained the commerce of the world, and was the resort 
of traders from every nation. At the beginning of the 
fifteenth century the Dukes of Burgundy had their 
court here, and it was then at the height of its splendor. 
There are many large and old churches in this place. 
The first which I visited is the present cathedral, built 
in the middle of the fourteenth century. In the chapel 
behind the altar is a picture of the Flight into Egypt, 
by Van Ostler. The light falls from above on Joseph 
and. Mary as they hasten along. An angel, close 
above them, with his finger on his lips, points the 



288 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

way. This picture is quite interesting. In the next 
chapel is a picture of the infant Jesus playing with the 
chips, which Joseph is astonished to see turning to 
flowers in his hand. From the cathedral I went to the 
Church of Notre Dame. Here is a statue of the 
Virgin and Child, attributed to Michael Angelo. The 
child leans against his mother's lap, his head bent 
pensively outward ; his right hand holds her left, and 
his left is pressed against her knee. The head of the 
child is very beautiful. In a chapel of this church are 
the tombs of Charles the Bold, and his daughter Mary 
of Burgundy, the wife of Maximilian. The copper 
effigies, richly gilt, of both father and daughter, lie at 
full length on slabs of black marble. The crowned 
heads repose on pillows, and the duke's helmet and 
gloves are by his feet. All around the sides are richly 
ornamented escutcheons, which record the duchies and 
lordships which Mary brought to the house of Austria. 
Her monument was erected in 1495 ; and in 1558, 
Philip II. of Spain erected the other, exactly like the 
first, for Charles the Bold, who was his great-great- 
grandfather. 

From the Church of Notre Dame I went to St. John's 
Hospital, which contains some fine pictures by Hem- 
ling, painted in 1479 ; showing that the early German 
painters were then deeply immersed in the spirit of 
art. The finish is exquisite, the expression of the 
faces delicate and tender, the coloring rich ; but, if I 
may so express it, there is too much of the sense of 
propriety in the features, which interferes with the 
freedom of expression. An altar-piece, by Hemling, 
contains a picture of the Wise Men and their Gifts. 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 289 

It has only eight figures, and there are open spaces 
through which the sky is seen. All the faces are reve- 
rend, subdued, and humble. Compared with Rubens 1 
treatment of like subjects, we see that while in the 
pictures of the latter all is action and motion, here all 
is repose. The Virgin is wholly absorbed in devout 
feeling, and sees neither the child nor the gifts. 

Several other fine paintings by Hemling are in this 
parlor. I was particularly struck with the noble head 
and figure of a St. John of Patmos ; and another of 
the Beheading of John the Baptist. In the middle of 
the room, on a table, stands a large wooden coffer for 
holding relics, painted by the same artist, with a series 
of pictures concerning St. Ursula and the Eleven Thou- 
sand Virgins. One of these represents their landing at 
Cologne, and over the roofs of the houses appear the 
unfinished tower of the cathedral, exactly as it now 
stands, though the picture is nearly four hundred years 
old. These paintings are so admirable, that the gover- 
nors of the Hospital have been offered in exchange for 
the painted box, a shrine of solid silver of the same 
size. 

These old German pictures are among the most 
interesting which I saw in Europe, and ought by all 
means to be visited. 

From the Hospital I went to the Grande Place, in 
which stands the Belfry of Bruges, made famous by 
our own Longfellow. It rises in the centre of a large 
building called Les Halles, built in 1364. The view 
from the summit is very fine. You look over the roofs 
of the city, (which is of great extent,) and over the 
fields beyond as far as the ocean. The Carillons in 
19 



290 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

this belfry are called the finest in Europe, and, as at 
Antwerp, are played four times an hour by means of 
a brass cylinder weighing nearly twenty thousand 
pounds, and containing thirty thousand square holes, 
by pegs inserted in which the tunes are changed each 
year. It has forty-eight bells, and a hundred and 
ninety hammers. The great bell weighs twenty-one 
thousand pounds, and the cost of these chimes was 
sixty thousand dollars. 

The building adjoining the belfry contains the 
council chamber, which has a most remarkable and 
beautiful chimney-piece of carved oak, extending the 
whole length of the room, and from the mantel-piece 
to the ceiling. Over the centre of the chimney is the 
statue of Charles V., carved of oak, said to be a good 
likeness. On the left, one of the Emperor Maximilian, 
and another of his wife Mary ; on the right, two of 
Charles the Bold, and Margaret. These five statues 
are the size of life, and beautifully finished. 

In Bruges I had my last adventure with commission- 
aires. One beset me as I was leaving the railroad 
station. By coolness and dexterity I got rid of him, 
and went to the cathedral where I looked at the pic- 
tures and marbles. On my leaving it, he was lying in 
wait for me, and I tried in vain to avoid him or get 
him to leave me. I told him that I did not want him, 
ordered him to go away, told him he was insufferable, 
annoying in the last degree, and that I knew all about 
Bruges better than he did. Still he walked quietly by 
my side, till, finally, in despair, I gave in, I promised 
him his fee on condition that he should walk at a dis- 
tance from me, and not speak a word until I spoke to 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 291 

him. This promise he religiously kept. Again, after 
having seen every thing, and dismissed this guide, 
another assailed me while I was walking about the 
city merely to see the streets and look at the houses. 
He showed determination and coolness equal to the 
former ; but I got rid of him by suddenly pointing up 
the street, and waving him in that direction with my 
umbrella, while I darted hastily up a narrow lane lead- 
ing I knew not where, but it had the effect of astonish- 
ing him to that degree that I saw him no more. 

From Bruges to Ostend I went by moonlight, and as 
in Ostend there is nothing to be seen, I went directly 
on board the little steamer which was to take me to 
Dover. The steamer left Ostend at ten in the even- 
ing, and was at anchor in Dover harbor before day- 
light. Every one on board, I believe, was sick during 
the passage ; for these little steamers are built for 
speed, and have a large engine on each side which 
makes them rock like a cradle. Nevertheless, notwith- 
standing its poor accommodations, it was pleasant to 
see something belonging to England once more, and 
when I received my change in English shillings, it 
was like meeting an old friend. Some of my fellow- 
passengers however, genuine Englishmen, were not so 
easily pleased, and scolded at the boat and all belong- 
ing to it, from the time they came aboard till they 
went ashore, declaring themselves cheated and the 
boat a vile imposition, and concluding with the most 
awful threat an Englishman can utter, namely, ' That 
they would write an article for the Times, blowing up 
the boat and the company to which it belonged.' 



CHAPTER XII 



ENGLAND AGAIN. 



We were put ashore at five o'clock in the morning, 
in a small boat which was nearly upset in the surf. It 
was wet and raining ; I went to a small hotel and 
ordered breakfast. I was followed into the coffee- 
room by four German gentlemen who ordered break- 
fast also, and then began to smoke their wretched 
pipes, and fill the room with pestilential fumes. This 
conduct, which no backwoodsman in America would 
think of indulging in, seemed to excite no comment 
here. As soon as it was light, the rain having ceased 
for a time, I went up on Shakspeare's Cliff. I went 
out of pure reverence for Shakspeare, and not expect- 
ing to see any thing after the Alps which could inter- 
est me. But this was an insult to Nature, who never 
repeats herself, and whose every work has its own 
charm. I went to the edge of the cliff to- put my foot 
where Shakspeare had placed his, and behold ! a mag- 
nificent sight. The sun was breaking through the 
clouds, and a sun-bow or mist-bow spanned the hori- 
zon. The ocean in the distance melted away into the 
white mist, which gleamed in the rays which here 
and there broke through the clouds. Below me were 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 293 

a few fishing boats some distance from the shore. At 
the foot of the cliff were heaps of chalk which had 
fallen from its side half way down. I did not see, 
indeed, one 4 gathering samphire,' but I saw the crows 
wheeling about, cawing and creeping into holes in the 
face of the cliff. Mists were rising from the half- 
hidden town, and scudding sea-ward. The ocean 
roared on the beach below, now loud, now faint, as 
Shakspeare heard it. Presently the clouds lifted a 
little, and the opposite shore of France loomed up in 
the mirage. A man came walking toward me, who 
proved to be a coast revenue officer, with his stout 
cane, his lantern strapped to his waist, and his water- 
proof coat. 

It began to rain again, and I took a seat inside the 
omnibus for Canterbury, sixteen miles. This omnibus 
only held four persons — three ladies and myself. 
The ladies were a mother and two daughters, gen- 
teel people, who were going to London, but instead of 
taking the rail from Dover, took this route because the 
mother was afraid of railroads. For myself I went to 
Canterbury to see the cathedral, which is a grand old 
building, containing the architecture of several centu- 
ries, and which was the scene of Beckett's murder. 
The cathedral stands in the middle of the city, and 
dates from the year 1130. It has a fine crypt with 
an underground lady-chapel. Its history has been so 
carefully preserved by contemporary records, particu- 
larly that of Gervase the monk, that we can almost put 
a date on every stone ; and it is said to be the best 
guide in the study of English architecture. The oldest 
part was erected by the Archbishop Lanfranc in the 



294 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

days of William the Conqueror; but most of it was 
rebuilt by his successor, St. Anselm ; and Gervase, 
writing in 1170 says, ' You must know, good reader, 
that I never saw the choir of Lanfranc, neither have I 
been able to meet with any description of it.' Part of 
Anselm's building was destroyed by fire, and rebuilt 
in 1180. Gervase describes the difference between 
the old and new work ; and in some places we see an 
old Norman round arch, with shark's-tooth ornaments, 
joining a pointed arch with fine chiseled work. Again 
we see the origin of the pointed arch, in an arcade 
dating from 1110, where circular arches intersect each 
other. These intersecting ornamental arches occur 
both on the inside and outside of the wall in St. An- 
selm's work. It is remarkable that while the cathe- 
dral was being rebuilt, between 1 1"75 and 11 84, a rapid 
change was going on in English architecture from the 
Norman to the early English. At first it was almost 
pure Norman, and in ten years the style is almost 
early English, like that of Salisbury cathedral. Again, 
we have other parts of the building in the decorated 
style of the fourteenth century, and geometrical tracery 
occurs in St. Anselm's chapel, the contract for which 
is extant in 1336. The decorated style also appears 
in the work of Prior Henry of 1304. Again, the per- 
pendicular style is found in the nave and western tran- 
septs which were rebuilt between 1378 and 1411, when 
the perpendicular style was fully established. All this 
is very interesting to a student of architecture, but it 
destroys the unity of effect. The building is a vast 
accumulation of magnificent chapels, towers, and orna- 
ments, which astonish you by their extent and beauty ; 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 295 

but I enjoyed it far less than Salisbury, which was 
begun and finished, as it now stands, in thirty years. 1 
Leaving Canterbury in the afternoon, I reached Lon- 
don by the southeastern rail at six o'clock, and enjoyed 
returning to Mrs. Chapman's comfortable boarding- 
house almost as if it were a home. 

I had only ten days more to spend in England, and 
many things to see ; among them some modern paint- 
ings in London, the British Museum, Oxford, Windsor, 
Cambridge, York, and, if I had time, Edinburgh. I 
wished also to go to Bristol and to see Tintern Abbey 
and Chepston Castle. But first I made a visit to the 
Tower of London, and was shown by the pompous 
wardens through the armory, the chamber containing 
regalia, and afterward, by the aid of a friend, saw 
what is not usually shown, the Saxon or Norman 
chapel in the White Tower. The armory is interest- 
ing on account of its admirable arrangement. The 
armor and weapons of every period are arranged in 
chronological order. There are a succession of figures 
the size of life of armed knights on horseback, in which 
you may see how the enormous weight of armor was 
gradually diminished on horse and man till it was whol- 
ly laid aside. But if one wishes to examine any thing 
minutely, it is necessary to get a special order for 
visiting the Tower; otherwise, you have to follow the 
warden, who allows you no opportunity of stopping 
any where. 

During my stay in London this week, I amused 

1 See, for these facts, the modern English treatises on point- 
ed architecture. 



296 ELEVEN WEEKS EH EUROPE. 

myself in visiting the shops in the Strand, at the "West 
End, and in the city. Among these, bookstores and 
print-shops were particularly interesting. Paternoster 
Row, which contains the shops of the great London 
publishers, is a narrow lane, and the bookstores on 
either side are low, dark, and unattractive. Bonn's, 
near St. Catharine Street, Strand, is a vast collection 
of works, of the most various kinds. Of the print- 
shops and picture-dealers, Jennings in the city, and 
Ackerman's in the Strand, and Hogarth's near the 
Haymarket Theatre, had the finest engravings and 
paintings. But every thing in London is dear, and he 
who wishes for engravings should purchase in Paris. 

I made several visits to the British Museum ; but 
weeks would not suffice for the examination of its 
immense collections. The most that I could do was 
to walk through the rooms, looking at those antiquities 
and specimens of natural history which wej 
interesting. I have long been convinced, that, to 
any thing to advantage, even* one must look at it from 
his own point of view. I therefore observed these 
collections in a manner probably quite unprecedented, 
and which would surprise the man of science. I took 
up an idea I had somewhere met with, which supposes 
that the human soul has passed up, by succe— 
metamorphoses, through all forms of lower life, devel- 
oping in each new organization some new power. I en- 
deavored to go through the Museum with this thought 

O O 

as a clue, and was surprised to find how much I noticed 
which I should have passed unobserved, without some 
such leading thought in mv mind to which to attach it. 

O O 

Beginning with the rooms which contained the lo' 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 297 

developments of animal life in the Radiata, I looked 
in them for the first developments of soul. The object 
of their organization appeared to be, to exercise the 
soul by bringing it in contact with external nature. 
These star-fish, spreading out their arms in every 
direction, seemed evidently a manifestation of the 
tendency to pass out of oneVself toward the outward 
world. Next come the Molluscs ; and in them I no- 
ticed, or imagined that I noticed, other tendencies of 
the soul developing themselves. Some of these shell- 
fish apparently represent grasping and holding. The 
Bivalves are, in fact, a hand with its fingers shut. The 
curled shells or volutes may represent sleep ; and the 
object of sleep seems to be to hold and retain what we 
get when awake. People naturally curl themselves up 
like snails when they go to sleep. Again, passing 
on through the lizards, crocodiles, batrachians, and 
turtles, I seemed to find in these an advancing move- 
ment of the monad soul, and could conceive how, 
living in these different forms, it might gradually 
develope its faculties more and more. The crocodiles, 
all mouth, give the devouring element, — the rapacity, 
the insatiable appetite, which, though its objects may 
change, continues surely a permanent element of the 
soul. Is it absurd to conceive that the sublime appetite 
for knowledge, the insatiable curiosity of a Newton or 
an Aristotle, should begin to develope itself first in 
these low forms, and with these material objects ? 
The turtles, within their thick shells, self-retired, and 
digesting their food, are types of that permanent ne- 
cessity which compels us, in all that we do, to pass 
from observation to reflection, from acquisition to 



29S ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

meditation on what we have acquired ; which compels 
us first to seek influences, and then to shut them out. 
These correspondences all can see ; but where there 
is a real correspondence, it is more than a resem- 
blance. It is, in fact, the same element manifesting 
itself under different forms. Thus, again, the fishes 
manifest another tendency, that of motion. It would 
seem not enough to learn how to come in contact with 
outward things, in the Star-fish, — to learn how to 
possess ourselves of them in the Mollusc, — to practise 
digestion in the Turtle, — we must move among them 
freely in the Fish. Alacrity, vivacity, and the like 
qualities, are developed among the varying forms of 
insect life. But when we come to the birds, we reach 
a higher region. As I stood in a room full of birds, 
and saw them in all their different attitudes, and with 
all their various expressions, they seemed to represent 
the feminine nature, — that fancy which we call airy. 
— that quick, intuitive analysis, by which the feminine 
intellect (in man or woman) penetrates the entangle- 
ments of life, as a bird darts between the branches of 
a thicket. I call the intuitive faculty feminine, and 
the reflective, masculine : for the one comes from 
nature, the other from will. The one is a feeling, the 
other an effort ; and in the dictionaries of all myst s, 
from Behmen and Swedenborg up to Plato, the will is 
defined as masculine, and the feelings as feminine. 
In a room filled with snakes. I was not a little puzzled to 
discover their significance in this point of view. They 
looked so deadly and determined, that I thought at first 
they represented destructiveness. The destructive ele- 
ment is certainly an important one, and it, no less than 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 



299 



the combative faculty, is fully cared for through all 
the lower forms of animal life. The insects in a drop 
of water spend their time in fighting and killing each 
other; but the human saint, no less, must spend his 
time in fighting and killing ; not in malice, nor wrest- 
ling with flesh and blood, but in love. His business is 
to contend with error and sin, and to destroy them ; 
and all the energies cultivated in the soul through its 
long career of war, as it passes up from the animalcule 
to the man, may be necessary in order that it shall do 
its work well. But the snake is not the type of destruc- 
tion. In the ancient world it was the symbol of the 
lower understanding, — of that form of the intellect 
which adapts means to ends, and its method of motion 
by touching the earth and then rising from it, symbol- 
izes the understanding judging by sense; passing from 
a fact to a thought, in order to return from the thought 
to a fact. But if this is the meaning of the serpent, 
why do we so dread and hate it ? I answer, that we 
dread and hate the snake as embodied cunning, — 
cunning divorced from reason and conscience ; than 
which, nothing can be more dangerous and detestable. 
Intellect divorced from reason is falsehood ; divorced 
from conscience it is wilfulness. A lion may be a 
more terrible animal than a serpent ; but his rapacity 
seems more determined by fixed laws of instinct, and 
is therefore less hateful. Passing on through these 
splendid galleries, which contain specimens of every 
variety of animal life, we reach those devoted to Man ; 
and after seeing ourselves in all animals, we can see 
ourselves in all nations, — in the Egyptian, Assyrian, 
Etrurian, Roman and Greek. We sit in stone with 



300 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

Ramases II. and the king from Karnac, and feel how the 
Egyptian mind worshipped repose, persistence. There 
is something sublime in these colossal heads, — this 
Memnon in black marble, these feet and legs of the 
sitting Amenophis, all expressing such a rooted feeling 
of stability. This conviction, which no skepticism has 
invaded, this reliance on the order of things, belongs 
to the childhood of the individual and to the infancy 
of the race. It looks at us again from the massive 
features of the human-headed bull from Nineveh ; and 
we see it in a higher form in the Greek ideal statues 
of their divinities. Each of these, — Jupiter, Apollo, 
Bacchus, — is fixed in one thought ; each represents 
one simple tendency ; and in Greek art, as in Greek 
literature, we trace nothing of that conflict of feeling 
with feeling, of thought with thought, which gives 
exuberance, but also uncertainty, to the modern mind. 
But how willingly might we linger among these Greek 
and Roman sculptures ! In the Phigalian Saloon are 
bas-reliefs, representing the Battle of the Centaurs and 
Lapitha?, and that of the Greeks and Amazons, found 
in the ruins of an Arcadian temple. They consist of 
twenty-three slabs of marble, of which we know the 
precise origin ; for Pausanius describes the temple 
from which they were taken, and informs us that it 
was built by Ictinus, an architect contemporary with 
Pericles. Round the sides of this room are eleven 
other bas-reliefs, formerly part of the celebrated Mau- 
soleum at Harlicarnassus, erected in honor of Mauso- 
lus, King of Caria, by his wife Artemisia, B. C. 353. 
This monument, — one of the Seven Wonders of the 
World, — was adorned with sculptures by five artists, 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 301 

one of whom was Praxiteles. The subject is the Battle 
of the Greeks and Amazons. In the year 1522 these 
sculptures were discovered amidst a heap of ruins, and 
employed by the Knights of Rhodes in the construction 
of a castle ; in the walls of which they remained en- 
cased till 1846, when they were given by the Sultan 
to Sir Stratford Canning, and by him to the British 
Museum. These, with the Elgin Marbles taken from 
the Parthenon by Lord Elgin, constitute the greatest 
treasures in the British Museum. Human genius prob- 
ably never showed itself in more perfect creations than 
these. All the science of the nineteenth century, 
joined with the study and labor of a lifetime, would be 
inadequate to the creation of one of these forms. It 
might copy accurately any figure, but the animating 
expression would be wanting. Nor can modern genius, 
joined with modern science and industry, produce any 
thing like these sculptures. For it must be observed 
that the great exploits of genius belong each to its 
own epoch, and can never be repeated. The genius 
of the man must be fed and stimulated by the spirit of 
his age, or he can effect nothing. Thus the age of 
Pericles filled Greece with statues and sculptures which 
are the despair of all subsequent rivalry. The age of 
Leo X. filled Italy with paintings, of which we are 
uuable to-day to make copies which shall do justice to 
their design and execution. The age of Elizabeth 
produced the Plays of Shakspeare, Beaumont and 
Fletcher, Massinger, Ford, and others, through whose 
living pages flows a spirit, near which all subsequent 
dramatic efforts are tame. And, in fine, the thirteenth 
century covered the face of Europe with cathedrals, to 



302 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

finish one of which the efforts of united Germany are 
likely to prove inadequate. This is the advantage, the 
chief advantage, as it seems to me, of visiting Europe. 
We have an opportunity of studying statues, cathe- 
drals, and paintings, the spirit of which can be com- 
municated by no copy or description. But to realize 
this advantage, it is necessary to study them all with 
that patient faith which opens the mind, and enables it 
at last to feel and apprehend the soul of each great 
creation. To run through a picture gallery, to run 
over a cathedral, is of no advantage ; you can learn 
more of it from a book at home, than you can by this 
process. But stand before the pure aspiring tower of 
Strasburg, till you feel its forms penetrating your mind 
and taking possession of it ; quietly commune with a 
head of Rafaelle or Titian, till it becomes like the 
face of a friend, whose smile has heightened your joy, 
whose sympathy has soothed your sorrow ; sit at the 
feet of these Phidian marbles, till the divine meaning 
gleams upon you from the solid stone; — and so you 
will realize that you carry away with you an everlast- 
ing possession, a XTijita tc asi. 

Such were my speculations in the British Museum, 
which it were foolish to express did they not suggest 
perhaps more than they tell. 

It may be remembered that on the summit of Mount 
Fleggere, I made acquaintance with an English gen- 
tlemen, Mr. , who kindly invited me to visit him 

on my return to London, and to see his collection of 
modern paintings. Accordingly, taking an omnibus 
to Camberwell, I walked from there by a road which 
passed between beautiful country-seats and villas, to 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 303 

Hcrne-hill. Mr. , who is a wealthy London mer- 
chant, has here built a small but very tasteful mansion, 
which I will briefly describe, as an example of an 
unostentatious but elegant suburban English villa. 
Passing through a court-yard filled with shrubbery, I 
entered the house by a door of plate glass, on each 
side of which were marble busts of Milton and Locke. 
The vestibule contained a copy by Bailey, in marble, 
of his fine statue of Eve, looking at herself in a foun- 
tain. The ceiling of the library was supported by 
pillars of marble, or scaggiola, and surrounded by 
cases of books neatly arranged and well filled. The 
walls and ceiling of the drawing-room were white, and 
divided by gilded vines into compartments, each of 
which contained a painting framed in these golden 
wreaths. Each leaf of the French windows was a 
single plate of glass, and the shutters were mirrors 
sliding; into the wall. Between the windows were 
large mirrors framed also in gold vines. The marble 
piers between the windows, and the chimney-piece of 
statuary marble, were of the same pattern, being 
carved in the form of curling vines. From the draw- 
ing-room you went into a small boudoir, which con- 
tained four fine statues (by Bailey) of Paris, Helen, 
Cupid and Psyche. The pictures which covered the 
walls and doors of the drawing-room were all painted 
by eminent artists, and each adapted to the size of the 
compartment it was to occupy. The walls of the 
dining-room were hung with fine paintings by Turner, 
Eastlake, Stanfield, Landseer, Calcott, Etty, and other 
artists of the like standing ; and the vestibules and 
chambers were filled with similar paintings. From 



304 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

the windows of the drawing-room and dining-room you 
looked into a lawn of rich green sward, in which stood 
some fine cedars. Beyond the lawn and garden you 
saw a rural landscape of trees and church-spires, 
which might easily make one forget that he was only 
six miles from London Bridge. 

Mr. is one whose taste in art has led him to 

study and collect pictures of the modern English 
school ; and I was glad of the opportunity of seeing 
these works under his guidance. It surprised me to 
find how separate this department of art was from the 

school of the old painters. Mr. said that it was 

so difficult to procure any works of the old masters, 
even at the most extravagant prices, that he had con- 
fined his attention wholly to making a collection, of 
modern paintings. But even here the masterpieces 
are not easily obtained ; and are sufficiently costly. 
For instance a cabinet picture by Mulready, in Mr. 
Sheepshanks' gallery, cost him six hundred guineas ; 
and any good picture by Collins, Webster, Landseer, 
Uwins, or Constable will bring similar prices. As for 
Turner, he obtains whatever price he chooses to ask. 

Mr. owns several of Turner's paintings, and is 

well acquainted with him. Rusk in also, the author of 
4 The Modern Painters,' is a neighbor and acquaintance 

of his ; and Mr. said that at the time he wrote 

this remarkable book, he was only twenty-three years 
old. Certainly no book or painting to be compared 
with it, in original insight, has been written in England 
since the days of Sir Joshua Reynolds ; not even the 
lectures of Flaxman and Fusel i. We have books 
enough filled with the pedantry of art, with talk about 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 305 

chiaro-oscuro, breadth of handling, aerial perspective, 
and the like, which may be interesting to the connois- 
seur, but which are dust and ashes in the mouth of the 
common reader. Yet there is no reason why the 
merit of a picture should not be made intelligible to 
any one who has capacity to see beauty, and a heart 
to feel it. The merit of a picture ought to be as easily 
described as that of a poem, or a mountain-torrent. 
The Essays on Art by Goethe are equally interesting 
to the learned artist and to the inexperienced layman ; 
and the reason is that he uses no technical expressions, 
but shows you in plain language what the picture 
means, and how it expresses its meaning. His essays 
on ' Truth and Probability in Works of Art,' on 
1 Myron's Cow,' on the ' Collector and his Friends,' and 
the ' Notes to Rameau's Nephew,' are illustrations of 
this. How admirably too does he explain the merits 
of Leonardo's Last Supper ! — the grouping, the unity, 
the management of the hands and feet, and the other 
points of its design. In like manner Winkleman, and 
still more, Lessing, have written upon art in a way 
deeply interesting to the common reader, and now Mr. 
Ruskin has written a book on 'The Modern Painters' 
which is as interesting as a poem, even to those who 
have never seen the pictures of which he speaks. 

I had already visited three exhibitions of modern 
English paintings. One was an annual artists' exhi- 
bition ; another, an exhibition of Mr. Etty's paintings 
exclusively, and the third was the Vernon Gallery, 
given to the nation by Mr. Vernon, and contained in 
the same building with the National Gallery in Trafal- 
gar Square. Mr. Etty's paintings are very much 
20 



306 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

esteemed by the English, and some of his pictures 
certainly display dramatic genius. He is one of the 
very few English painters who attempts historical 
subjects ; but his favorite subjects are female figures, 
in which, though he excels his contemporaries, he 
stands miles below the great historic painters. It is 
easy to trace the figure of his model through all his 
pictures, and the flat back, narrow waist, and thin 
limbs, reappear like old acquaintances in ' Bathing- 
Nymphs,' ' Angels,' * Cleopatras,' and ' Susannahs.' 
The knowledge of the human figure must stand low 
in England, when Etty's forms can be considered and 
sold as masterpieces. Of his coloring I do not feel 
competent to speak, but it appears to me raw. We 
may not, perhaps, expect in new pictures the mellow 
tints and infinite gradations of Correggio and Titian, 
but we may at least expect that the colors shall not be 
o-iven exactly as they come from the paint-shop. 

Mr. spent a day in carrying me to different 

o-alleries, where I might see the English school in its 
perfection. We first went to Hogarth's, the print and 
picture dealer, next to the Haymarket Theatre ; he 
had some fine pictures in his two large rooms up 
stairs, among which were one or two of Turner's, a 
Mulready or two, some by Collins and Webster, and 
one which professes to be a Gainsborough. Mr. Ho- 
garth is the publisher of a series of fine engravings 
from the works of British artists, at half a guinea 
each. Among them are some Landseers, and Tur- 
ner's 'Temeraire.' From Hogarth's we went to Mr. 

G 's, a gentleman of fortune, who chooses, as an 

occupation suited to his taste, to deal in pictures. In 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 307 

his room were three or four large paintings which 
Turner had left for sale. One, I remember, was a 
sea-piece, and displayed the artist's wonderful mastery 
of the element of water. Mr. G said that Tur- 
ner could not be persuaded to fix any price for his 
pictures, but says, l If any one wants them, tell me 
who he is, and what he will give ; ' but as purchasers 
usually wish to know the price which is asked for a 
commodity, this method somewhat interferes with the 

sale. Mr. G said that he had a picture of Turner's 

which the artist offered for five hundred guineas; but 
a New York gentleman expressing a wish to purchase 
it, Turner had immediately raised his price to seven 
hundred and fifty, which was paid, and the picture 
went to America. 

After this we went to the house of Mr. Sheepshanks, 
a very wealthy old bachelor, who welcomed us in a 
friendly manner, and said, — 'You know my pictures 

Mr. as well as I do, I will leave you to show 

them to your friend.' Accordingly we walked at will, 
through three parlors, and a picture gallery built 
especially for the paintings ; all of which were cov- 
ered with gems of English art. The paintings were 
by Turner, Mulready, Leslie, Uwins, Landseer, New- 
ton, Calcott, Webster, Collins, Redgrave, Eastlake, 
Constable, Lance, and others. The picture gallery is 
forty feet by twenty, and lighted from above. I sup- 
pose the whole collection may have cost two or three 
hundred thousand dollars ; and yet there is not a sin- 
gle picture except of modern English artists. 

I have deferred till now, expressing an opinion of 
the English school of painting ; and I would now 



308 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

merely give my own impression, which may be worth 
nothing at all. I certainly feel inadequate to judge 
these pictures. They may have great merits which I 
am unable to understand. I can only say that I wished 
to enjoy them, and was sorry that I could not. I found 
them unmeaning and empty. With the exception of 
Turner, and perhaps Landseer and Leslie, they indi- 
cated neither invention nor creative power. They 
were simply copies of commonplace scenes and 
transactions. They were essentially prosaic. The 
subjects are dogs drinking, people coming from the 
fair, parish choristers, a child in a cradle, children 
sailing a toy-ship or playing with a kitten, a girl 
trying on a wedding gown, and the like. In the large 
pictures there was usually an utter want of unity in 
the design. Several transactions going on at once, 
with nothing to bind them together into a whole. 
These ' pieces de genre J or scenes in every day life, 
are the chief. The landscapes have brilliancy and 
depth of color, but also wanting unity, have no soul. 
A Claude or a Poussin, a Rembrandt or a Ruysdael, 
always convey a single sentiment, and awaken the 
imagination by a thousand circumstances, all sugges- 
tive of some one idea. This to me is the fault of the 
English landscapes, that they are not suggestive, and 
therefore not picturesque. For a picture differs from 
a bare copy of nature in this, that the picture suggests 
continually something more than it tells. Any object 
in a landscape which is suggestive, is picturesque. An 
old tree, its limbs torn, and its trunk riven by light- 
ning, is less beautiful, but more picturesque than a 
young thrifty elm. And why ? Simply because it 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 309 

suggests a history. Beside what you see, you are 
made to think of the storms which have beaten upon 
it, of the summer lightnings which have rent it, and 
your imagination is crowded with these images. A 
square in a city, with well dressed gentlemen and 
ladies walking through it, or standing still looking at 
the buildings, is not picturesque ; for it suggests 
nothing more than it tells. There is nothing to indi- 
cate what people have been doing, or what they intend 
to do, and their minds, you know by experience, are 
probably quite empty. But a countryman in his shirt- 
sleeves, leaning on a gate, is picturesque to some 
extent, because you immediately are reminded of the 
work in which he has been engaged ; or ask yourself 
what he is waiting for. A hog lying in a mud-puddle 
is not a beautiful object, but is so far picturesque as 
it suggests the habits of the animal, and the hot wea- 
ther which has led it to take that position. A picture 
which tells every thing, therefore, is essentially faulty 
in its design ; while even such lower forms of the 
picturesque as these, may be somewhat interesting. 
But the works of the great landscape painters are 
picturesque in a far higher style ; for they suggest 
higher thoughts, and crowd the imagination with more 
glorious images of beauty. Turner's paintings alone, 
seem to me to possess this higher excellence, among 
the works which I saw of modern English painters. 
They are full of poetry as of nature ; they are of 
imagination all compact. I cannot agree with Mr. 
Ruskin in his depreciation of such poet-painters as 
Claude and Gaspar, nor can I admire Mr. Turner's 
latest works. But no one can deny that he joins 



310 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

immense knowledge and facility of execution with 
the greatest creative faculty. 

From Mr. Sheepshank's gallery we directed our 
way to Mr. Turner's house, which contains his private 
gallery, filled with his own pictures. After knocking 
at the door several times, it was at last cautiously 
opened by a very old woman, who, putting her head 
through the opening, muttered that Mr. Turner was 
not at home. My friend said that we wished to see 
his gallery. Then the old lady crustily replied, that 
the gallery was shut and could not be seen. But my 
friend cheerfully declared that it could not be closed 

to him. ' You know me, do you not ? I am Mr. .' 

Thereupon, for the first time, she looked up in our 
faces and said, ' Walk up, Sir, the key is in the door.' 
This woman, it seems, is the housekeeper, and was 
for many years the only domestic ; but as she became 
rheumatic, her master engaged another woman, older 
than herself, to come and help her ; and these two, 
with Mr. Turner, constitute the family. Turner is a 
bachelor,* wedded to his art ; is worth several hun- 
dred thousand pounds, which he has obtained by 
painting; is very old, very odd, inaccessible, and 
the object of immense reverence in the eyes of Eng- 
lish artists and connoisseurs. He is said to love money 
very much, but to love his pictures more. He refuses 
to sell some of his pictures at any price ; and yet 
allows them to decay because he will not afford a 
trifling expense for their preservation. The gallery 

* Turner is dead since these notes were written, leaving, as 
the papers tell us, the bulk of his property and paintings to 
artistic objects. 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 311 

which holds his pictures is dirty and damp, and some 
of the most valuable ones have, in consequence, been 
injured past recovery. To save the expense of can- 
vass, he has painted some of them on cloth ; which is 
therefore rotting away. A pane of glass in the roof 
of the gallery having been broken, he allowed it to 
remain so until the rain had beaten in, and I saw 
where the carpet below had moulded in consequence. 
But these dirty pictures, hung around the walls of 
this dirty room, are worth an incalculable sum. There 
are from twenty-five to thirty paintings, which could 
be sold to-morrow, for from two or three hundred to 
five or six thousand dollars each. Two of the finest of 
these paintings are the Rise of Carthage, and the 
Decline of Carthage. These pictures were exhibited 
many years ago in the National Gallery ; the direc- 
tors of which institution offered to purchase them of 
Mr. Turner for six thousand guineas. He replied, 
that he could not but be gratified by this offer, but that 
he could not make up his mind to part with them. 
Some of the newspapers at the time criticised the 
yellow tone of coloring, and called them the Yellow 
Fever Pictures, which made the artist very indignant, 
and he declared that he would be buried in them for 
his shroud. No one has ventured to ask him whether 
he adhered to this appalling intention ; but it is sup- 
posed that he means to leave the pictures at his 
decease to the National Gallery. The Rise of Car- 
thage is full of rich architecture, and is somewhat in 
the style of Claude. The other, in its composition, 
more after the manner of N. Poussin. Of the first, 
Ruskin remarks, ' The principal object in the fore- 



312 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

ground is a group of children sailing toy-boats. The 
exquisite choice of this incident, as expressive of the 
ruling passion which was to be the source of future 
greatness, in preference to the tumult of busy stone- 
masons, or arming soldiers, is a thought far above 
all art. It is epic poetry of the highest order. 1 
The names of other pictures in this gallery are, 
'Hannibal crossing the Alps,' a large painting; 'The 
Bay of Baiae; 1 'Richmond Hill and the Thames;' 
'Crossing the Brook; 1 'A Whaling piece; 1 'The 
Temeraire ; ? ' The Angel Uriel and the Sun. 1 Other 
subjects are ' The Fiery Serpents in the Wilderness, 1 
and ' The Deluge. 1 These last are in Mr. Turner's 
latest and most extraordinary style, which even his 
greatest admirers hesitate to defend. All that you see, 
for instance, in the picture of the fiery serpents, is 
something like a black snake in the middle, and a 
glare of color and mingling figures, of which one can 
distinguish nothing clearly. There is a fine picture 
also of Napoleon, with a fiery red sunset. ' The Teme- 
raire 1 represents a favorite English ship of war, and 
Mr. Hogarth, the print-seller, was very anxious to 
obtain this picture to be engraved for his collection ; 
and for the loan of it for that purpose, he paid Turner 

a hundred and twenty guineas. Mr. said that 

he could once have bought it for two hundred and fifty 
pounds. Another picture of the whale-fishery repre- 
sents the ship in the ice, with fires on her deck boiling 
the blubber. Another is a beautifully clear and dis- 
tinct representation of a frosty morning. For a pic- 
ture called ' The Crossing of the Brook, 1 Mr. 

once offered Turner a thousand guineas, which he 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 313 

refused ; but it is now so much cracked as to be 
seriously injured. The picture of the ' Bay of Baiae,' 
my friend also wished to buy, but that, and another 
representing the Death of the First-born, Turner 

would not sell, but offered to lend the first to Mr. , 

while he painted another for him. 

Mr. told me the following anecdote, illustrat- 
ing at once the high value put upon Turner's works, 
and also how much more was given to the name than 
to the thing. One day Hogarth showed him a small 
water-color drawing, and asked him if it was by Tur- 
ner. Mr. answered that it looked like a Turner, 

but he did not know. Then Hogarth said, ' I wish you 
could find out for me, for I am offered a hundred 
guineas for it if I will warrant it a Turner ; but if I can- 
not do this, I may perhaps sell it for two.' Mr. 

took it home, and having invited Turner and some 
other artists to dinner, put the drawing in a conspic- 
uous position. Turner, as it happened, did not come ; 
but Eastlake, who was present, after looking at the 
drawing, turned and said, 'You have not been buying 

this for a Turner, have you ? ' Mr. answered, 

'Why, is it not a Turner?' Said Eastlake, ' No ; I 
thought it was at first, and there are parts in it which 
he might have painted ; but see here, he never did that, 
nor that.' This opinion of Eastlake's being reported, 
the picture-dealer could not warrant the drawing, and 
accordingly, the same w r ork which with one name 
attached to it would have sold for five hundred dollars, 
without that name, suddenly sank in value and was 
worth only ten. 

A pleasant trip from London is to Windsor, and 



314 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

occupies but a few hours. You may go either by the 
Great Western or the South-western rail. Windsor 
Castle, the royal residence during part of every year, 
is a superb pile of gray stone, one part of which (the 
Round Tower) dates back to William the Conqueror. 
From the summit of this Round Tower, the view over 
the adjacent country is very beautiful. Below, sur- 
rounding the inner court, are the extensive ranges of 
the castle. Around the foot of the hill on which it 
stands, winds the Thames ; and on the other side of it 
rise the towers and spires of Eton College. Farther 
on is a beautiful level country filled with villages, 
groves, spires, and country seats, and among the latter 
that belonging to the family of William Penn. The 
village of Stoke Pogis, where the poet Gray lived, and 
the church-yard made immortal in his elegy, are also 
visible in the same direction ; and on the other side, 
beyond the great park of Windsor, with its intermin- 
able avenues of English oak, lies the famous plain of 
Runnemede where Norman barons, tyrants and oppres- 
sors themselves, forced from the tyrant, John, that 
charter which has secured liberty in a far wider range 
than they ever intended. As I stood on this tower, built 
eight hundred years ago by the conquering Norman, 
the lines of Gray came to my mind, and gave a new 
beauty to the scene which they described. 

1 Ye that from the stately brow 
Of Windsor's height, the expanse below 
Of grove, of lawn, of mead, survey, 
Whose turf, whose shade, whose flowers among, 
Wanders the hoary Thames along 
Its silver winding way.' 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 315 

We saw the state apartments ; the dining-hall hung 
with the portraits of English monarchs ; the galleries 
filled with pictures by Vandyke and Rubens, Sir Joshua 
Reynolds, and Sir Thomas Lawrence, of English no- 
blemen and statesmen ; and other apartments well worth 
seeing, but of the contents of which the guide-books 
give sufficient descriptions. But St. George's chapel, 
the admirable building where royalty bows before the 
King of kings, and is buried like common dust, is an 
exquisite gem of art. It was erected in the fifteenth 
century, when the decorated style had passed into the 
perpendicular, which is usually considered to have 
been the commencement of the decline of architecture. 
The beautiful tracery in the window-heads is in this 
style replaced by the rigid lines of the mullions, which 
are carried to the architrave mouldings, the spaces 
between being frequently divided and subdivided by 
similar perpendicular lines, whence this style takes its 
name. So, too, the whole surface of the building, 
including its buttresses, parapets, basements, and every 
part of the flat surface, is covered with panelling in 
which the perpendicular line clearly predominates ; so 
that sometimes, as in the famous west end of Winches- 
ter Cathedral, the windows appear as openings in the 
panel work. The roof of Saint George's Chapel, as in 
other buildings of the same style, is not carried up in a 
lofty vault, but has become horizontal, and is covered 
with beautiful fan tracery with delicate pedants, and 
lace-like ornaments. 

To Oxford I could only devote a single day, though 
a week would have been a short time to see and to 
enter into the spirit of the place. Taking the express 



316 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

train on the Great Western railroad, I arrived ^it Did- 
cot, fifty-three miles from London in fifty-five minutes, 
which allowing for time lost in starting and stopping is 
at the rate of a mile a minute. This, it will be ob- 
served, is the regular daily rate of motion of the fast 
trains from London to Bristol, and shows the great 
advantage of the broad guage. I should not have sup- 
posed from the motion of the car, that we were moving 
more rapidly than is usual on American railroads. A 
road with the broad guage between Boston and New 
York, at this rate of speed, would enable us to perform 
that journey in four hours ; or from Albany to Buffalo 
in five hours and a half; or from Boston to Buffalo in 
ten hours. Thus one could easily breakfast in Boston 
at seven o'clock, and take tea at Buffalo at six the 
same evening, which will probably be done in a few 
years. 

Mr. Hallam says that there is no improbability in 
the opinion which ascribes the foundation of the Uni- 
versity of Oxford to King Alfred, about A. D. 900. It 
was a very flourishing university in A. D. 1200, con- 
taining at that time three thousand scholars. At all 
events, it is one of the three oldest in Europe, the 
other two being the universities of Paris and Bologna. 
The number of students who resorted from all parts 
of Europe to these great seats of learning would 
seem incredible, unless we remember that from the 
scarcity and high price of books the instruction from 
the lips of professors was the only kind then accessi- 
ble. It is asserted on good authority, that there were 
ten thousand scholars at Bologna in the middle of the 
thirteenth century ; and another writer, in the middle 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 317 

of the fourteenth, says, that the number in his time 
was about thirteen thousand. The students at Paris 
were twelve thousand before 1480 ; and indeed it is 
stated at the death of Charles VII., in 1453, it con- 
tained twenty-five thousand scholars. At Oxford, un- 
der Henry III., in 1250, there are said to have been 
thirty thousand scholars. ' Many of them, however,' 
says Anthony Wood, * were varlets, who pretended to 
be scholars, shuffled themselves in, and did much vil- 
lany in the university.' The object of these varlets 
was to enjoy that exemption from the jurisdiction of 
the magistrates, which was one of the privileges of the 
clerks at the universities. Both Oxford and Cam- 
bridge obtained their first charters at the beginning of 
the thirteenth century ; though at that time Oxford had 
only two colleges, and Cambridge one. 

An article in the London Quarterly .Review in 1838, 
attributed to Mr. Newman, describes the contrast which 
a rapid transition from London to Oxford presents, 
between the worldly activity of the one, and the reli- 
gious repose of the other. ' From noise, and glare, 
and brilliancy,' he says, ' the traveller comes upon a 
very different scene — a mass of towers, pinnacles, and 
spires rising in the bosom of a valley, from groves 
which hide all buildings but such as are consecrated to 
some wise and holy purpose. The same river which, 
in the metropolis, is covered with a forest of masts and 
ships, here gliding quietly through the meadows with 
scarcely a sail upon it — dark and ancient edifices, 
clustered together in forms full of richness and beauty, 
yet solid as if to last forever ; such as become institu- 
tions raised not for the vanity of the builder, but for 



318 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

the benefit of coming ages — streets, almost avenues 
of edifices, which elsewhere would pass for palaces, 
but all of them dedicated to God — thoughtfulness, 
repose, and gravity, in the countenance and even 
dress of their inhabitants ; and to mark the stir and 
the business of life, instead of the roar of carriages, 
the sound of hourly bells calling men together for 
prayer.' 

It is rather a drawback from the impression received 
from this glowing description, to remember how many 
of those who go to Oxford still belong rather to Anthony 
Wood's class of varlets than to that of students — to 
recall what we know of the luxurious indolence of the 
teachers, and the reckless dissipation of those who 
are taught; the wine-drinking, boating, hunting, and 
racing. It is possible that ' hourly bells ' may call 
men together to prayer, but it is not probable that 
many come when so called. At all events, the daily 
evening cathedral service at Christ Church, which I 
attended, had an audience of some twelve persons. 
One fact is significant of a great deal. Every day 
after the dinner in the public hall of each college, the 
tutors and fellows adjourn to another room to drink 
wine ; and the students, in like manner, go to each 
other's chambers to wine parties, which are regularly 
given by each man in his turn. How favorable this 
practice may be to the intellectual purposes of the 
place, and how far it tends to produce the ' thoughtful- 
ness, repose and gravity,' which this Oxford writer 
remarks in the countenance and dress of the men of 
Oxford, may be left to him to determine. 

Nevertheless, who can visit a place like this, devoted 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 319 

to study and the pursuits of literature, without feeling 
that he has passed into another sphere from that of the 
working world. It was with such a feeling that I spent 
a pleasant day in wandering from college to college, 
examining the ancient architecture, the green lawns and 
shaded walks, the halls, and libraries, and paintings of 
the different colleges. Each college is built around 
one or more courts, into which the windows look, and 
to which the only entrance is through a gate, closed at 
night at a certain hour. The buildings are of gray 
stone, and beside the chambers of the tutors and 
students, each college contains a large dining-hall, 
kitchen, chapel and library. I went through the Rat- 
cliffe and Bodleian libraries ; the first of which is a 
circular building with a fine dome ; but the other build- 
ing is quite unworthy of the magnificent collection of 
books which it contains. The rooms are low and 
dark ; the ceiling panelled with oak, and containing 
the arms of the University, and of Bodley, the founder, 
painted in the panels. There is a fine gallery of 
paintings, mostly portraits, connected with this library, 
which contains four hundred thousand volumes. 
Among these portraits are the following : Grotius, 
by Rembrandt ; Cranmer, Erasmus, and Cromwell, 
Earl of Essex, by Holbein ; the Earl of Pembroke, 
Archbishop Laud, and Lord Falkland, by Vandyke ; 
Selden, by Mytens ; Mary, Queen of Scots, by Zuc- 
chero ; and Dryden, by Kneller ; all of them very 
fine. The best, perhaps, is the portrait of Grotius, by 
Rembrandt ; so full of decision and animated expres- 
sion, that it is of itself worth a journey to Oxford to 
see it. The portrait of Laud, by Vandyke, has a medi- 



320 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

tative expression, and is interesting. In one part of 
this gallery stands a large bronze statue of Pembroke, 
made in 1629. Under a glass case is contained the 
identical tin lantern used by Guy Faukes, and under 
another is the copy-book of Queen Elizabeth. A 
book of Autographs lies by the side of the last, filled 
with names of distinguished visitors to Oxford ; and 
the book was open at the page which contained the 
names of Prince Albert, and Edward Everett. The 
large theatre, in which the public exercises are held, 
and the degrees given, contains some fine portraits. 
But the most interesting part of my day was passed in 
quietly walking among the grounds of the colleges, 
and looking at the different buildings. The clining- 
hall of Christ Church is a noble room, and on the walls 
are hung the portraits of a long list of eminent men 
who have graduated in this famous college. 

It had been my intention to go on from Oxford to 
York ; but I found it would be easier to return to Lon- 
don, and go from thence on the following day by the 
North-western road, than to take a carriage across the 
country twenty miles to Aylesbury. Leaving London, 
therefore, on the following morning at nine o'clock, I 
reached York, (which is two hundred and twenty miles 
distant,) at three, in the afternoon ; which left me three 
or four hours of daylight to examine the famous 
Minster, the pride of all English cathedrals. Like 
Canterbury, it was built at different periods ; is of vast 
size, covers a great extent of ground, and wants 
nothing but a central spire to be perfect in all its parts. 
The north transept was built between 1250 and 1260, 
by the treasurer of the church, or perhaps by the 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 321 

Chapter, whose custom it was to keep a gang of work- 
men in their pay as part of the establishment. The 
number varied from twenty to fifty, and the same 
families were usually continued for several generations. 
The chapter-house belongs to the same period. The 
windows of the* transepts are very graceful. On one 
side a circular window is over three lancets, and two 
below. On the other side are five high lancets close 
together, and five more above them. The nave was 
seventy years in building, from 1290 till 1360. The 
tracery of the end window is highly florid, and in the 
Flamboyant style. Mr. Rick man says that this nave, 
from the uncommon grandeur and simplicity of design, 
is certainly the finest example of the decorated style. 
It is profusely ornamented, and yet retains its sim- 
plicity. The choir, which was completed in 1408, is a 
magnificent work in the perpendicular style. The 
windows have a double frame of tracery. The gen- 
eral character of this cathedral is of profuse decoration, 
and the greatest diversity of style. It is carved all 
over on the outside and inside. I afterward learned 
that Mr. Wellbeloved, the Unitarian minister at York, 
knows more of the Minster than any one else : so 
much so, indeed, that when the Queen visited York, the 
Archbishop called upon him to explain some things to 
her Majesty about the building, which he himself could 
not. 

The city of York has an air of great antiquity. The 
houses are small, the streets narrow and crooked. 

After looking at the cathedral, I went, as I had 
been advised, to see the ruins of St. Mary's Priory. 
The whole extensive space has been walled in, and is 
21 



322 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

used by the inhabitants as a pleasant resort for them- 
selves and their children. Scattered over beautiful 
green lawns, stand the walls of the old Priory build- 
ings ; the surfaces richly carved, and the windows 
filled with elaborate tracery partly fallen away ; parts 
of the walls hung with deep green English ivy, and 
trees growing in the middle of the old Chapel and 
Refectory. 

Crossing the river Ouse which runs through the 
middle of the city, in a little skiff, I rambled on the top 
of the city wall, watching the towers of the cathedral 
darkening as the light faded away. The lofty building 
with all its rich carvings, its ornamented surfaces, its 
niches filled with the figures of saints and kings, its 
crocketted pinnacles, flying buttresses, and windows 

some large and filled with tracery, some slender 

lancets, — arose a mass of beautiful design, of mingling 
lines and melting shadows, above the clustering houses 
of the city. In the dim light I could fancy it a 
shepherd leaning on his staff, with his sheep crowding 
around his knees for protection. Meantime, the Ouse 
reflecting from its tranquil surface the last light of day, 
wound about the city, and separated it from the rail- 
way station on the other side, where trains were 
rumbling in and out, and the sharp clang of the bell 
was mingled with the shrill voice of the escaping 
steam. Here again the old and the new had met ; the 
twelfth century had been found out by the nineteenth 

the age of faith by the age of action ; and as I 

belong to the nineteenth century I turned toward the 
railway station, and bidding farewell to York, took my 
seat in the train for Leeds. 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 32*3 

Reaching Leeds at half after eight, I went to the 
Royal Hotel ; and thence took a cab to the house of 
Mr. Wicksted, the Unitarian minister, whom I had met 
in Paris. He pressed me to stay, and I had a very 
pleasant talk with him till late at night, in which 1 
received much information on the condition of the 
religious w T orld in England. 

Next morning, I went to sec Mr. Wicksted's chapel 
— an extremely pretty stone building in Gothic style. 
It has neither tower nor spire, but pinnacles at either 
end, and projection with large window in the middle. 
The effect of the exterior is unpretending and tasteful; 
the interior is very good. There is neither paint nor 
plaster to be seen. The walls are stone, the pews and 
roof oak, and stained wood. The pulpit is of carved 
stone, and behind the communion table, the stone wall 
is richly carved. The windows have stained glass, 
and one window is filled with paintings given by four 
children as a memorial to their mother's memory. 
Each son or daughter has presented a picture, repre- 
senting a scene from the life of Jesus. In one, Jesus is 
giving the keys to Peter ; in another, he is blessing 
the children ; in a third, he is with his mother and 
Mary ; and in the fourth, talking with the woman of 
Samaria. Above the whole is a scroll with the words, 
'To the Memory of our Mother.' Such memorials as 
these, seem to me far better than erecting marble 
monuments in churches or cemeteries. The painted 
window gives pleasure to thousands, the monument to 
none. For hundreds of years these paintings may 
teach and persuade the w r orshippers in this chapel, 
while it records and recalls the filial piety of the 



324 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

children. When the time comes that Protestants make 
the discovery that pictures and the papacy have no 
necessary connection, and that the heart may properly 
be addressed through the imagination as well as 
through the understanding, — when they see that they 
are no better Protestants because they worship in the 
bare walls of ugly churches, — we may hope that fine 
paintings will be given to all our churches from 
motives like this. 

From Leeds I went without stopping, through Man- 
chester, to Liverpool. On the way we passed through 
a tunnel between three and four miles in length. The 
superintendent of this road, who was in the same car 
with myself, told me that the cost of the road was 
about c£60,000 a mile ; and could hardly believe me 
when I told him that, in America, they were built 
for forty or fifty thousand dollars, or less. The fare 
on the English roads is naturally higher than with us. 
In the first-class cars it is rather more than twice as 
much. 

At Liverpool I went to see Mr. Martineau, who lives 
a mile or two out of the city, at a place called the 
Prince's Park, which is laid out in walks and green 
lawns, with a sheet of water, clumps of trees, and 
flowering shrubs ; a Swiss cottage, Chinese bridge, &c. 
Mr. Martineau had just returned from Germany, where 
he went partly to rest, and partly to prepare himself 
for a professorship of philosophy. He studied at 
Berlin. I found him by no means satisfied with the 
state of religion in Germany. In Berlin he said there 
were three theological parties, that of the old Ortho- 
dox, represented by Hengstenberg ; that of the mode- 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 325 

rate Orthodox by Neander ; and the rationalists, by 
Vatke. Religious worship is slenderly attended. The 
public men, and literary men, the professors and 
statesmen, with the exception of the theologians by 
profession, take little interest in Christianity. Mr. 
Martineau looks pale and thin. He is tall and slender, 
with dark complexion and hair, and an intellectual 
expression of face. His whole manner indicates cul- 
ture and refinement. His society had just finished, 
and were about dedicating, a new chapel of stone, in 
the form of a cross, with a lofty stone spire, orna- 
mented with statues of the four evangelists. The 
interior is handsomely finished with white and black 
marble and oak ; and connected with it are cloisters 
of carved stone, and a small chapter-house or commit- 
tee-room. Except that the effect is too much that of 
a cathedral in miniature, the design and execution are 
good. 

After bidding farewell to my excellent friend, Mr. 
Bishop, the city missionary, I went on board the fine 
steamship Europa, and we sailed with a full company 
of passengers on the 13th of October. Among the 
passengers were many very agreeable people ; but 
after the first day or two, the weather became so rough, 
that those who were well were chiefly occupied in 
condoling with one another. In fact we had head- 
winds all the way across the ocean ; ranging from 
strong breezes to violent squalls, and sometimes in- 
creasing to a gale. On Friday and Saturday, the 19th 
and 20th, the roll of the ocean was sublime. The 
ship rolled and pitched very much, and constantly 
shipped heavy seas. The deck at times was a foot 



326 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

or more under water, and the ship, with our whole 
head of steam, sometimes made by the log only three 
miles an hour ; but it was a magnificent sight to see 
her moving onward against the heavy wind, and the 
enormous waves, her machinery working without 
strain, and regularly as on the smooth surface of a 
lake. Certainly no one could see the vessel pushing 
steadily on without pause or rest, without regarding it 
as one of the highest efforts of human genius. In a 
steamship are combined the highest results of modern 
science, and the last achievements of modern art. All 
the experiments in ship-building for three hundred 
years have gone into the model of her hull. In her 
machinery we find results which have been obtained 
by the triumph over successive difficulties, since the 
power of steam was first known, and mechanism first 
began to apply and transmit mechanical power. Three 
distinct companies are required to do the work of the 
vessel ; for she is at the same time a ship, a machine, 
and a hotel. Two hundred persons are to be fed and 
lodged, and this implies all the labor of a large hotel. 
The ship is to be sailed, and this demands a regular 
crew, good officers, and all the arrangements of a 
sailing vessel. The engine consumes sixty tons of 
coal every day ; and to bring this coal from the place 
where it is stowed to the boilers, to remove the ashes, 
to tend and watch the engine itself, and keep it in 
Ox^der, require necessarily another large force. 

Notwithstanding the steady head-winds, we reached 
Halifax in about eleven days, and were glad to put our 
feet on solid ground ; for the most desirable thing in 
the world to all of us was to stand on something which 



ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 327 

would itself stand still. We spent an hour or two in 
wandering about the city, which, after the cities of 
Prance and Belgium, had, to be sure, not much to in- 
terest us ; so we were glad when the good Europa 
was once more steaming out of the harbor, and our 
faces were turned fairly toward New England. We 
still had head- winds, but in twenty-four hours after 
leaving Halifax, we were approaching so near the 
coast of Massachusetts that the important question was, 
shall we be able to reach Boston to-night. It was after 
nine o'clock before we came in sight of the lights of 
Cape Ann. In an hour or two more we saw before us 
the outer light of Boston Harbor, and the ship threw 
up rockets as a signal for a pilot. Whether a pilot 
would take us in at that time was doubtful ; but after a 
little we saw the white sail of the boat drawing near to 
us through the darkness. The boat went to leeward of 
the steamer, and a skiff brought the pilot on board. 
Then we were all made happy by learning that the 
pilot would take the ship directly in to her berth at 
East Boston. But it is the lot of man, no sooner to 
conquer one difficulty than he finds another meeting 
him : so now arose the anxious inquiry, 'Shall we be 
able to get over to-night from East Boston to the city,' 
for the ferry-boats stop running at midnight. Most of 
the passengers agreed that it could not be done ; and 
made up their minds to stay on board yet another 
night. But those of us who had families or friends in 
the city, did not give up so easily. We knew that the 
mails would be carried over, and that a steamer would 
come for them. So we made interest with the admi- 
ralty officer who had them in charge, to let us go over 



'328 ELEVEN WEEKS IN EUROPE. 

on the same boat. He answered mysteriously and 
equivocally ; leaving us still in suspense ; and so, the 
boat, passing up between the familiar islands, at 
last drew near its dock at East Boston. Just then, 
looking over the side, I saw a skiff come up to the 
vessel and a man climbed aboard. He had come for 
the English papers for the newspaper offices. As he 
went back with his bundle into his skiff, I dropped 
after him, and in five minutes was on the end of Long 
Wharf. 



THE END. 










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